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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646670">Blood and Bones</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleside/pseuds/idleside'>idleside</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Triplicity [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous Relationships, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Confessions, Conspiracy, Cunnilingus, Duelling, Duelling Practice, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Existential Crisis, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Female Ejaculation, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Inappropriate Use of Parseltongue, Master of Death Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Susan Bones, Missionary Position, Multi, Numerology, Or Is It?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outercourse, Panic Attacks, Plot With Porn, Politics, Polyamory, Prophecy, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Rimming, Sex Toys, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/F/M, studying magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:13:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>99,985</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleside/pseuds/idleside</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio of Daphne, Harry, and Pansy have settled in to a comfortable spot in their relationship. With a new challenge from Pureblood politics, they all have parts to play to defend their future.<br/>All three will have to face their families and the skeletons in their closets.</p><p>Daphne’s father – Lord Cyrus Greengrass – leads the traditionalist faction, after all. Though she rejected the idea of being a “proper” woman, she begins to find the role more interesting and detestable than she imagined.<br/>Harry’s “family” is mostly limited to the legacies which he bears, willingly or not. It’s all that he can hope for that the graves of his past remain undisturbed, because he fears what he’d find if he pried those coffins open.<br/>Pansy couldn’t care less that she’s Heiress Parkinson. It’s more difficult for her to balance her role with being true to herself: a woman who wants more, unsuited to being left on the sidelines. She wonders how long she’ll stay patient for.<br/>Their main ally, Susan Bones, has her own troubles. The last living member of House Bones, she’s responsible for its legacy and future alike, to say nothing of the secrets she knows. Will she be content limiting herself to a “useful asset”?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Triplicity [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Folie A Trois Full Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chamber</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>The weather that afternoon, appropriately, seemed as if it was struggling to make a decision. Sudden downpours were followed by periods of radiant sunlight, before the sky eventually settled in the middle, a patchwork of turbulent grey clouds and spaces of clear blue.</p><p><em>I already hate this, </em>Harry thought to himself as he strode into the Ministry grounds, making his way to the chambers of the Wizengamot.</p><p>He supposed that at least the weather gave him a valid excuse to wear the thick black cloak which billowed around him as he walked, a justification more practical than “it looks suitably impressive when you stomp around”, which was the actual reason that Pansy had insisted he wear the garment.</p><p>Harry already felt like half a fool, and he hadn’t even set foot inside the fucking building yet. Once again at Pansy’s insistence, he’d dressed the part of a noble Lord, and while he had no problem with the crisp charcoal suit he wore, the monogrammed, multi-striped, and emblem-pinned dress robes really felt like a <em>bit </em>much.</p><p><em>“This is how you’d display that you’re a recognized Lord of two Houses,” </em>Pansy had explained, <em>“so quit whining, you lummox.”</em></p><p>He felt the impulse to scratch at the back of his head, but that would only wind up messing up the slicked-back style that they’d worked his hair into, so Harry had to content himself by scowling in a way that hopefully seemed sufficiently lordly.</p><p>It had been a long time since he’d set foot in the Wizengamot, and Harry had never actually participated in a trial from his assigned seat. From this vantage point, he was surprised at how small the podium and floor looked below, and he bristled at the idea of how insignificant he must have seemed when he’d gone through that farce of a “disciplinary hearing”.</p><p>The session today was not likely to be a momentous one, from what Harry understood. While Cyrus Greengrass had distributed his proposed bill weeks ago, convention held that it would pass through three reading sessions before the Wizengamot would go to a vote, so few but its most contentious supporters or detractors would be interested in attending the ceremonial re-opening session.</p><p>Harry figured that roughly half of the various Lord, Ladies, and Heads of House were absent that day, and of the few people taking their own seats that he recognized, he liked almost none of them. <em>Yaxley, Burke, and Selwyn are all here, of course, </em>Harry spotted, <em>little toadies like them would never miss a chance to demonstrate their allegiance.</em></p><p>Lately, he had spent more time than he’d ever hoped to memorizing all the various Houses which made up the Wizengamot, and the corresponding heads of each one. By the estimates that Hermione and Daphne had come up with, they figured that the Wizengamot was split roughly in thirds, between the traditionalists supporting Cyrus’s bill, “reformists” like himself who opposed it, and fence-sitters whose vote couldn’t be easily anticipated.</p><p>As far as Harry could tell, this neutral faction held the majority of those in attendance, mostly minor houses or newly-founded ones (<em>“new” is relative, </em>Harry thought, <em>given that there’s a couple on their second generation already…</em>) that probably showed up mostly to affirm that they were, in fact, members of the Wizarding ruling class.</p><p>A few seats away from his, Harry glimpsed Susan Bones taking her own seat, and despite his consternation, he couldn’t help but return the bright grin that she flashed at him.</p><p>He still felt guilty for accidentally embroiling her into this whole scheme that he was part of, but for whatever reason, she didn’t seem to mind the ruse of acting as if she and him were a courting couple, rather than the good friends they actually were.</p><p>Speaking of Harry’s good friends, he really wished that Hermione was here with him today, but she had been insistent (in her classic Hermione fashion) that he’d have to pull this particular gambit off himself, so that he didn’t risk portraying himself as reliant on his representative to accomplish anything.</p><p><em>That would be much closer to the truth, </em>he grumbled, <em>‘Mione’s way better suited to all this political shite than I’ll ever be.</em></p><p>By the time that the final few stragglers trickled in, Harry’s gaze had become fixated on the podium below him, where the Chief Warlock – <em>Cyrus, of course </em>– would appear any minute. Sure enough, when the man made his own entrance, he was dressed just as ostentatiously as Harry’s own costume, his robes trimmed with the green and silvery-blue banners of his house.</p><p>While Cyrus Greengrass wasn’t quite as sneering as Lucius Malfoy had been, the comparison wasn’t too far off: Cyrus was tall, with hawkish features and sharp blue eyes that left a somewhat regal impression to him. Harry preferred to recall when Cyrus flinched away from him nervously at a dinner party of Ron and Astoria’s, when Harry had flexed a bit of his magical power to make his displeasure known.</p><p>The faint hum of background conversation dimmed as Cyrus took the podium, his voice booming with the aid of a <em>sonorous </em>charm.</p><p>“The four hundred and fifty ninth session of the Wizengamot shall begin following the call of roll and opening remarks,” Cyrus announced, and Harry started to tune out the various traditional phrases which followed.</p><p>Harry called out “present”, as expected of him, when it was his turn, but was otherwise quite happy to ignore the trappings of bureaucracy which surrounded this event. He did start to pay more attention when Humphrey Burke stood from his seat, clearing his throat and rustling through some papers in his hands.</p><p>“My Lords, my Ladies,” Burke began, his voice wobbly, “Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot, I bid you welcome and good tidings. In the hallowed halls of this great institution, we have the opportunity to provide a guiding hand for our people, to maintain the traditions which have made Magical Britain great.”</p><p><em>Ugh, </em>Harry thought.</p><p>“While many of us may disagree with each other on the finer details of what such governance entails, I have full faith, my Lords and Ladies, that we all desire what is best for our people. When we debate matters of particularly contentious nature, it is unfortunate that sometimes our tempers may grow hot, and sometimes, our tongues may slip, causing us to speak regrettably.”</p><p>Harry could see the speech that Burke held trembling in his grasp, as Susan leaned forward with intent interest.</p><p>“I am one such person,” Burke continued, then paused after the admission, “last year, I made the mistake of saying words that could have been understood to imply that Lady Susan Bones was comporting herself improperly, and for this, she has my true, sincere apologies.”</p><p>Burke stiffly bowed towards Susan, and she smirked at the gesture.</p><p><em>You’re only “apologizing” because you lost a duel over it, </em>Harry knew, unimpressed as ever with Burke.</p><p>“I conclude my opening remarks,” Burke muttered, “by imploring each and every one of us to maintain our civility, to conduct ourselves as men and women of our status ought to. That is all, Chief Warlock, I yield the floor.”</p><p>There was a light smattering of half-hearted applause at the conclusion of Burke’s speech, a baffling display of false humility from a man who was all too eager to behave uncivilly.</p><p>“With the conclusion of these opening remarks,” Cyrus Greengrass spoke, “the four hundredth and fifty-ninth session of the Wizengamot begins.”</p><p>He clapped his gavel against the podium.</p><p>“As the first order of business, we are due for the primary reading of the bill of Marriage Reform and Modernization. If there are no motions regarding the conduct of this reading, it shall begin immediately.”</p><p><em>Right, that’s my cue, </em>Harry rose to his feet, holding his wand into the air.</p><p>“Chief Warlock!” he announced, “I wish to file such a motion!”</p><p>Harry could feel Cyrus fix his gaze on him, but after a moment where he almost seemed to sigh, Cyrus continued his officious announcements.</p><p>“The Wizengamot recognizes Lord Harry Potter,” Cyrus answered, “Lord of House Black. State your motion, Lord of Potter and Black.”</p><p>“Thank you, Chief Warlock,” Harry forced himself to keep his tone even, “the proposed bill is one that I believe will do much to redress developments in our society that have not been properly accounted for by our current laws.”</p><p><em>Some parts aren’t that bad, </em>Harry thought, <em>others would move us back two centuries. </em></p><p>“I believe that chief among the shortcomings of the current legislation,” Harry continued, “is the fact that our laws do not officially recognize marriages which have been consecrated by any means other than those most traditional vows and rituals.”</p><p>He heard a few mutters pass through the chamber, as no doubt a few people were surprised by the revelation that their marriage might not have <em>officially</em> counted as one.</p><p>“Before we begin to debate the various processes by which these bonds of matrimony might be dissolved,” Harry continued, swallowing his pride, “I would argue that it is best to officially recognize the definition of this sacred bond. Chief Warlock, I move that section one of the bill of Marriage Reform and Modernization be divided from the remainder, and that these articles should be ratified under a separate act of the Wizengamot. We should not dally in addressing the oversights of our predecessors, so I speak in support of the immediate passage of these articles.”</p><p>Harry wasn’t a fan of the way that he appeared to be supporting Cyrus, let alone of the stilted language he had to use, but it wasn’t the worst compromise he’d ever found himself making.</p><p>“I move,” Harry finished, “that these logical, common sense definitions are formally established under the Recognition of Magical Marriage Act. I yield the floor, Chief Warlock.”</p><p>As Harry sat back down, quiet mutters began to echo through the chamber once again. Across the room, he spotted Humphrey Burke staring at him with undisguised confusion on his face.</p><p><em>No doubt surprised to see me speaking out in favour of Cyrus, </em>Harry mused, <em>that’s the trick, really.</em></p><p>Though the whole ploy rankled at Harry’s thoughts a bit, this motion of his was merely step one of the plans which Daphne, Sue, and Hermione had worked with him to develop. They all understood the risk that, if Harry took too aggressive a stance against Lord Greengrass, his opposition might wind up pushing some of the neutral faction into Cyrus’s arms.</p><p>Instead – taking advantage of Harry’s blunder where he accidentally publicly announced his and Sue’s “courtship” – they intended to portray him as a newly-initiated <em>ally </em>to Lord Greengrass, one who was even beginning the process of courting Cyrus’s daughter Daphne.</p><p>They hoped that, in doing so, Harry’s later objections to the more odious parts of Cyrus’s proposed bill wouldn’t be seen as true opposition, but rather as if he merely had some quibbles with minor details. Not a battle, but a conversation.</p><p>“The Wizengamot recognizes the motion from Lord Potter and Black,” Cyrus announced, “and, should no objections be raised, a procedural vote shall be held, to confirm the furcation of section one of the Marriage Reform and Modernization bill into the Recognition of Magical Marriage Act. Are there any such objections?”</p><p>It looked as if Humphrey Burke was about to stand up again, but after Cyrus flicked a glare in his direction, the Lord Burke slumped back down into his seat.</p><p>“With no objections, this vote shall now be held by those in attendance at this session. All those voting ‘aye’, raise their wands.”</p><p>Harry was one of the people to do so, casting a soft glow of light to signal his vote, since it would be the absolute height of absurdity to vote against his own proposal.</p><p>“All those voting ‘nay’, raise their wands.”</p><p>It was immediately obvious that the “nay” votes were badly outnumbered. In truth, even though this was merely part of a scheme, Harry didn’t even find that section of Cyrus’s bill too objectionable – it was just boring legal-speak outlining that yes, people who got married were actually married.</p><p>True, it was awfully restrictive in that it defined marriage as a status between a man and a woman, but even Sue wasn’t expecting Wizarding society to recognize gay relationships before they’d dragged their culture a bit closer to modernity.</p><p>“This motion passes,” Cyrus thumped his gavel against the podium, “and with this passage, the remaining text of the bill proposing Marriage Reform and Modernization shall be withdrawn from reading, pending the removal of its first section.”</p><p>His plan complete, Harry was happy to start tuning out the next orders of business once again, idly entertaining himself in his own thoughts until the session (one which had become much briefer than anticipated) was formally closed.</p><p>Harry walked towards the exits, before he was stopped by a firm grip on his arm.</p><p>“Lord Potter,” Susan greeted him, a smirk barely hidden in her expression, “that was quite a judicious motion, we are lucky to have a man of your insight joining us today.”</p><p>“My thanks, Lady Bones,” Harry replied formally, and just barely resisted the temptation to roll his eyes while doing so, “I look forward to working with you more in the future.”</p><p>“Just so,” Sue grinned, “speaking of which, I’ll see you for dinner, right? Seven o’ clock?”</p><p>“Of course,” Harry agreed, “I look forward to that even more.”</p><p>As they made their ways separately from the Wizengamot chambers, Harry couldn’t help but shake his head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. For the various Lords, Ladies, and so on that had witnessed this interaction, it would have been seen as barely-disguised flirtation between a Lord and Lady who were <em>well</em> into their courtship.</p><p>He wasn’t a fan of the way that he was using Susan to present a fake relationship for the public, but Harry had to admit that he was at least glad that it was a good friend of his that he was faking it with.</p>
<hr/><p>“How’d it go?” Daphne asked as soon as he returned home.</p><p>“Brilliantly, actually,” Harry answered, reaching up to undo his tie as soon as he could, “the motion you and Hermione planned out passed by a good margin, and everything wrapped up pretty quick after that.”</p><p>“Good,” Daphne replied, before throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss, “I told you that it wasn’t going to be that bad.”</p><p>“It wasn’t,” Harry admitted, “but I know it’s only going to get worse from here.”</p><p>“You’ll probably wind up becoming a political prodigy out of nowhere,” Pansy greeted him as she entered the room, “since you’re apparently incapable of being mediocre at anything, and all.”</p><p>“Hey, Pans,” Harry smiled, as his other girlfriend joined Daphne’s embrace, “how was the rest the day for you two, anyway?”</p><p>“I didn’t get up to much, actually,” Daphne turned to peck a kiss into the top of Pansy’s head, “I found it kind of hard to focus. I know that it wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it <em>felt</em> big, what you did today.”</p><p>“Did it?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“Absolutely,” Daphne continued, “now we’ve proven that you have the clout to get a motion passed just by your recommendation, and we’ve bought some time while the marriage bill gets re-written.”</p><p>“Meanwhile, I<em>, </em>too,” Pansy interjected, “have been busy with very important matters, you know.”</p><p>“Such as?” Harry teased, giving her a quick kiss.</p><p>“I’ve been embroiled in my devious schemes to pull the wool over the eyes of Magical Britain, of course,” Pansy drawled, “what else?”</p><p>“She laid out an outfit for you,” Daphne smirked at their girlfriend’s melodramatic delivery, “for your dinner.”</p><p>“Right, yeah,” Harry nodded, “thanks, Pans. I know you think I can’t be mediocre at anything, but I’m absolute shite at fabric-transfiguration charms.”</p><p>“You’re lucky that you have a woman of my talents around,” Pansy sniffed, before a wry grin broke across her face, “besides, I want you looking your best when you show up at Bones’s for reasons all of my own.”</p><p>“You don’t <em>actually </em>have to stake your claim, you know,” Daphne joked.</p><p>“I might be convinced, one day, to tolerate Bones to a degree,” Pansy argued, “but I will <em>never </em>be persuaded to allow our boyfriend to be caught looking anything but his best. Certainly not when he’s specifically supposed to be spotted visiting her.”</p><p>“Fuck, that’s a good point,” Harry muttered, catching the time, “I wish I could stay longer, but Sue made a point out of mentioning the time I was expected for ‘dinner’, I should run soon.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry,” Daphne purred, as she wrapped her arms around Pansy from behind, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to stay busy...”</p><p>“I could be a bit late,” Harry argued.</p><p>“No, you can’t,” Pansy smacked his arm lightly, before trailing her fingers over his wrist, “so you’ll just have to make your absence up to us later, hmm?”</p><p>Harry found that he liked that idea <em>quite</em> a lot.</p>
<hr/><p>Although Harry hadn’t noticed any suspicious characters lurking around when he made his promised appearance at Bones Manor, he wouldn’t have been shocked if there was an enterprising member of the media (<em>Witch Weekly gets sneakier every year, </em>he thought) surreptitiously watching him from somewhere.</p><p>Harry knocked on the door, wearing what looked like an honest-to-Merlin tuxedo, apparently “appropriate apparel for an evening engagement”. When Susan opened the door, she, too, was dramatically overdressed, in a full-blown gown.</p><p><em>Still, she pulls it off better than I’m managing this, </em>Harry mused.</p><p>“Lady Bones,” Harry bent to take her hand in his, raising her knuckle near to his lips, “good evening.”</p><p>“Lord Potter,” Susan returned the greeting, “good evening. Step inside, please.”</p><p>Once the door closed, Susan broke into loud laughter, guffawing at him as Harry’s ears started to burn.</p><p>“Aren’t you a gentleman?” she teased, and waved her wand over herself, turning her clothes into a jeans and t-shirt outfit which was more typical for her, “here we are, a lovey-dovey couple for weeks now and all, and you don’t even dare to touch your lips against my hand! Why, a chaste maiden like myself is honoured by your restraint, my lord.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Harry muttered as he activated the charms that Pansy had woven into his tuxedo, and it suddenly became a (much more comfortable) jumper and pair of trousers, “laugh it up, I know you aren’t enjoying the whole ladylike act any more than I am.”</p><p>“Who’s to say it’s an act?” Sue batted her eyelashes, “after all, I am, in fact, a delicate, fancy, noble Lady!”</p><p>“I’ve seen you drink a pint in three seconds flat,” Harry reminded her, “and follow it up by headbutting Seamus so hard you almost broke his nose.”</p><p>“Heh, yeah,” Sue agreed, “fuckin’ right you have. Speaking of which, beer’s in the fridge in the kitchen, grab me one while you’re at it, would you?”</p><p>“Cheers,” Harry agreed, wandering off to do just that.</p><p>While they’d been friendly enough as students at Hogwarts, Harry’s friendship with Sue had really blossomed in the years following. The girl he’d known who often waffled between shyness and being bluntly outspoken grew up into a fierce and unabashed woman, one who had always been up for a night on the town in the last years of his teens that Harry had mostly spent at pubs.</p><p>He was grateful for her friendship, but even more thankful that he’d managed to pick up on the fact that she wasn’t interested in dating men <em>before </em>he’d ever had the chance to get any kind of foolish ideas in his head and risk spoiling their dynamic. While Harry had eventually figured out how to navigate a “friends with benefits” situation (which involved mutual attraction, of course) by his twenties, at that earlier age, he figured that he would have latched onto even a one-sided interest of his own without much grace.   </p><p>“Cheers!” Sue spoke her gratitude when Harry passed her a cold bottle of brown ale, before he slumped into a cushioned chair across from her.</p><p>“So,” Harry grumbled, “that felt a bit too easy, this afternoon.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sue agreed, “did you catch old Humphrey about to mouth off?”</p><p>“I did,” Harry confirmed, “I wasn’t expecting that he’d be sharp enough to notice that I was pulling something.”</p><p>“Eh,” Sue shrugged, “it’s not like Cyrus isn’t going to be able to tell that we’re up to something, but it’s not like we’re trying to convince him, anyways.”</p><p>“Right, yeah,” Harry snorted, taking a swig of his ale, “just, you know, pulling the wool over the eyes of a third of the Wizengamot, half the media, and even a chunk of our friends.”</p><p>“Well, it isn’t all bad,” Sue smiled at him, “after all, once this is all over, you’ll be able to go public about Daph and Pansy, yeah?”</p><p>“I guess so,” Harry shrugged that time, “it still feels a bit unfair to you, though.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ve had break-ups before,” Sue drank from her ale, “and I seem to have survived intact. I’m quite sure I’ll manage to get past the tragedy of letting <em>the </em>Harry Potter slip through my fingers.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Harry chuckled, and Sue mockingly raised her bottle in cheers, “what I mean is, all this shite is holding you back from actually meeting someone, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Nah,” Sue dismissed the idea, and didn’t elaborate further.</p><p>“Nah?” Harry asked, seeking clarification.</p><p>“It’s, uh, not a great time for me to be dating, anyways,” Sue explained, “you remember how I’m working with the DMLE now, right?”</p><p>“Of course,” Harry wasn’t directly part of the Aurors, but he was connected enough to have heard of Sue’s new position even before she’d told him.</p><p>“Well, that’s going to be keeping me busy enough on its own,” Sue continued, “and that’s without even getting into all that goes into running House Bones. And everything else.”</p><p>“Everything else?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“It’s not exactly the most appealing thing,” Susan waved her bottle around in a dismissive gesture, “to tell some girl ‘hey, so I’m going to be too busy to see you much, and we’ll have to keep our relationship secret, and, oh right, on top of all that, I’m going to wind up marrying a bloke one day so I can have an heir… but anyways, wanna date?’, is it?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry muttered, “sorry, Sue, I didn’t think that through.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Sue grinned, apparently unbothered by these circumstances, “I figure it’ll work out when it works out, but there’s bigger things I have to worry about right now, anyways.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry still felt this was unfair, but he couldn’t see any way he could possibly help her.</p><p>Sue took another drink from her beer, and Harry joined her, not sure what he should say next.</p><p>“Besides,” Sue continued, “I’ve got <em>loads </em>of toys that keep me from getting too lonely, yeah?”</p><p>Harry snorted hard enough that his ale sprayed out of his nose, prompting Sue to break down into howls of laughter.</p><p>“Fucking classic,” She teased, before swigging the rest of her own beer, “since you’ve apparently forgotten how to drink, go grab the rest of that box, would you? I’ll show you how it’s done.”</p><p>“I’ll get right on it,” Harry wiped his drink from his face, “any other requests, my Lady?”</p><p>“Nah,” Sue chuckled, “since I’ve gotta tolerate your company for a few hours yet anyway, I figure a few drinks should be enough to tide me over.”</p><p>“I’m so grateful for your generosity,” Harry joked, and finished his own beer. Sue tauntingly dangled her empty bottle towards him as he walked past her, grinning up at him when he obligingly took it from her hand.</p><p>Harry figured that there were <em>definitely </em>worse ways to participate a complicated political scheme than spending a night drinking with Sue.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There's been a few different factors which have delayed the beginning of this fic, but better late than never!</p><p>Right off the bat, a bit of outlining! I intend for this installment of Triplicity to be a little bit more plot-heavy than some others have been. While the main focus of the plot relates to Lord Greengrass's plots in the Wizengamot, this will not be the <i>only</i> storyline this follows - politics will play a big role, but most chapters aren't going to include dry speeches and political processes like this one did. </p><p>That said, this fic very much has the same spirit as its predecessors, and there's going to be chapters that are more relationship-oriented, which is where the smut scenes will reside. As was made clear from the get-go and finally confirmed in the last installment, the trio's relationship will, at times, include other women in different ways, as an early warning for any readers who only want to read about a closed triad. Daphne, Harry, and Pansy (and their triad relationship) will absolutely remain the central focus of this fic, but as with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903724/chapters/60262057">Revelations</a>, some chapters will dip into perspectives outside the main three. </p><p>I hope that these plans and my intentions are clear enough without spelling out the various twists and turns the plot might take!</p><p>With all the preamble aside, I'm looking forward to seeing your reactions to this introductory chapter! Getting comments and feedback definitely helps keep me on-track with motivation to keep writing, and it's always helpful to fine-tune some parts of what I have planned!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Epidermis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pansy does Pansy things as she plans for the upcoming difficulties Harry and Daphne will face</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>Of the various plans, plots, ploys, and – <em>what a frustrating break from alliteration</em> – schemes which Pansy was playing at, one of the more pleasant was her meeting with Narcissa Black, where Pansy would ply her for information and advice on the best way to plant the seeds of an idea in the minds of the “Neutral” plurality in the Wizengamot; one which would make them more pliant in accepting the Reformist platform in the upcoming plebiscite.</p><p>While Narcissa had long ago moved away from Malfoy Manor (<em>it’s Draco and Ginny’s home, now</em>), she retained some of the benefits of her previous title, making her residence in an elegant, cozy apartment owned by the Malfoys, even though she’d renounced that family name following her divorce from Lucius.</p><p>“I cannot say that it is all bad,” Narcissa argued, as the pair of women got through more pleasant topics and down to politics, “certainly, several of the provisions in Cyrus’s bill would be rather liberating for those who are stuck in unsuitable marriages.”</p><p>“Well, that’s the trick, isn’t it?” Pansy nodded, sipping her tea, “it seems that he’s wrapped the worst restrictions in an easy-to-swallow shell, like a poisoned chocolate treat, or something.”</p><p>“Quite a poetic description,” Narcissa smiled faintly, “and rather accurate for how these sorts tend to conduct themselves. I am not well-acquainted with Lord Greengrass personally, but I am rather familiar with his history, and I would expect that his current pursuits are motivated by something more complex than simply wishing to lash out at Lady Bones or Lord Potter-Black.”</p><p>“How’s that?” Pansy wondered. She was also familiar with the historical neutrality of House Greengrass, but wasn’t quite sure how sitting on the sidelines in two wars made one into a deft politician. <em>“Coward</em>” was probably more accurate, from how Pansy saw it.</p><p>“To have maintained neutrality,” Narcissa explained, “was no simple task. It was not as if he simply abstained from society, but neither did he switch his support between one faction and the other as some had attempted. No, Cyrus had a unique ability to make himself useful to both sides at once, such that neither was willing to risk losing him as an asset.”</p><p>“Well, it certainly seems as if he’s decided on a side now,” Pansy pursed her lips, “given that he’s surrounded by Yaxleys, Burkes, and Selwyns, after all.”</p><p>“And your faction is driven by an alliance between Houses Black and Malfoy,” Narcissa sipped her tea silently, “to say nothing of its coordination by you, Heiress Parkinson. The old families are not so neatly delineated as they once were, with how our society is changing.”</p><p>“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Pansy argued, “the times are changing. Merlin knows that if I can manage to see the light, then at least <em>some </em>of that lot should have figured out by now that they’re fighting a losing battle.”</p><p>“There are very few who are as clever as you are,” Narcissa was always quick to praise Pansy, which made her feel oddly proud of herself, “and fewer still that are willing to relinquish power, once they’ve got their hands on it. That may be the rarest trait of all, from what I’ve seen.”</p><p>“But they are handing over their power, aren’t they?” Pansy generally held a dim view towards old Pureblood men, but she’d always figured they had a basic level of self-preservation, at least, “in the bill that Greengrass is putting forward, they’d leave the future of their houses up to the Wizengamot at large, not their own alliances or plans.”</p><p>“If there is one virtue that us Purebloods possess,” Narcissa sighed, “it is patience. With each successive generation, they’d consolidate a fraction of the Wizengamot under their control, until one day the entire institution becomes nothing but an extension of the alliances you mentioned.”</p><p>“So, why now?” Pansy wondered, “if they’re playing the long game, trying to scheme over the course of generations, why make such an obvious move?”</p><p>“That, at least, is easy to explain,” Narcissa smiled with a glint of sharpness in her eyes, “they’re terrified.”</p><p>Pansy couldn’t help but let a distinctly unladylike snort loose.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” Narcissa explained, “is a rarity among rarities, such that I am not sure if the Wizarding world has <em>ever </em>dealt with a man like him.”</p><p>Pansy hummed in response, preventing herself from launching into an explanation of just how true that sentence was. Narcissa had certainly alluded to the fact that she suspected that Harry and Pansy were more closely connected than mere political allies, but just as Pansy wasn’t going to call attention to her own suspicions that Narcissa was <em>involved </em>with the Minister of Magic beyond her role as a liaison, she wasn’t going to bluntly admit that her alliance with Harry was entirely rooted in wanting to support her boyfriend.</p><p>“Certainly,” Narcissa continued, “greatly influential figures appear to rise once every fifty years or so, but the recent history of Magical Britain is unusual, to say the least. It is much more common for power – <em>true </em>power – to be held by a dozen or so such figures, or a handful at the least. In the last decade alone, our world has been passed from the hands of Albus Dumbledore into the Dark Lord’s, and then to Harry Potter.”</p><p>“I hardly think that Harry Potter is in control of Magical Britain,” Pansy drawled, “it seems that this would be a lot easier if he was.”</p><p>“That is true,” Narcissa set her tea cup down, her voice dropping to a more serious tone, “for now. I suspect this is what has driven Cyrus and his allies to act so impulsively; they may well see this as their last chance to exert control before it passes forever beyond their reach.”</p><p>“I don’t think,” Pansy had to swallow nervously, finding this topic more daunting than she’d imagined, “that Lord Potter-Black has much in common with Albus Dumbledore, to say nothing of, well, You-Know-Who.”</p><p>“I can hardly claim to know him well enough to judge for myself,” Narcissa folded her hands neatly in front of her, “but for those that do have half a brain, such as Lord Greengrass, the similarities likely outnumber the differences.”</p><p>Pansy had rarely talked about Dumbledore with Harry – her boyfriend seemed to hold an unclear blend of hero-worship and resentment towards the former Headmaster – and tried her best to ignore the existence of the Dark Lord who had harmed him so badly, so she was curious to hear what Narcissa had to say, given that she’d interacted with both of those men more than most could claim.</p><p>“Albus Dumbledore,” Narcissa expounded, “was a clever, capable man, both as a Wizard and as a politician. With that said, he found himself embroiled in the very same system which he had once sought to change; committed to playing a game whose rules were stacked against him from the start.”</p><p>“How so?” Pansy had never heard of this side of history, though she’d already wondered why it was that Dumbledore seemed to accomplish so little despite his long list of titles.</p><p>“House Dumbledore,” Narcissa answered, “is neither Ancient nor Noble. Albus Dumbledore’s position in the Wizengamot was thanks to his status as an elected member, a rank which is afforded neither the power nor security of those who hold ancestral seats.”</p><p>“He was Chief Warlock though, wasn’t he?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Narcissa nodded, “which allowed him to introduce legislation and administrate ceremonial power. The determination of which bills and acts would pass or fail remained in the hands of those like my former husband, who could not be removed from their seats except by force.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Pansy weighed this information in her mind, and wished that Daphne was here to extract what she needed from the nearly-academic way that Narcissa was explaining it, “so, Lord Potter-Black having two seats at once, that’s a big deal, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Nearly unprecedented,” Narcissa agreed, “noble families tended to be very careful to arrange marriages which avoided that exact scenario, where one person could become a voting bloc in themselves.”</p><p>“So that’s why so much of the bill is focused around how a Lord or Lady might be stripped of power,” Pansy reasoned, “it’s a direct assault on those seats?”</p><p>“In part,” Narcissa tapped her fingers softly against the table, “though, again, I would be surprised if there were merely one angle at play. I suspect it is equally likely that there are those who wish to try and force Lord Potter-Black to form attachments to traditional Pureblood families, to attempt to forestall any use of his power as a cudgel.”</p><p>“Considering the recent display of his duelling prowess,” Pansy raised an eyebrow, “that doesn’t seem to be panning out.”</p><p>“Quite so,” Narcissa sighed deeply, “which brings to mind, I must admit, the <em>other </em>man who held our world in his palm. Dumbledore was renowned for his defeat of Grindelwald, and yet none in the Wizengamot ever feared that he might have turned his magical prowess against them. The Dark Lord was the exact opposite, one who was all too happy to lay waste to those who stood against him, and even the most ignorant of our people have learned that lesson rather well.”</p><p>“I don’t think that Ha-“ Pansy started, “Lord Potter-Black, that is, is really the type to overthrow the Wizengamot by force.”</p><p>“And yet,” Narcissa smirked, “he single-handedly destroyed the <em>previous </em>dictator of Magical Britain, and has been renowned since his childhood for being particularly unwilling to adhere to any rules or restrictions placed upon him.”</p><p>“That hardly makes him a budding Dark Lord,” Pansy spoke sourly, not pleased to hear some of Harry’s fears reiterated from Narcissa, “if anything, he seems overly hesitant to take advantage of the power he wields.”</p><p>“And that,” Narcissa nodded to herself, “is precisely what terrifies so many people. We have experienced a man who turned wartime glory directly into political status, and suffered under one who wielded power and status as literal weapons, but I do not think that Wizardkind has any idea how to handle a man who held the future of our world in his fingertips, only to throw it aside as if disinterested.”</p><p>“I suppose not?” Pansy recognized that there was some subtle aspect she wasn’t picking up on.</p><p>“I believe that this, above all else, might very well be at the root of Cyrus’s true motivations,” Narcissa smiled sadly, “that he wants to draw the Lord Potter-Black out from his stronghold to take his measure, to evaluate whether he is a tool to be used, a hinderance to be pushed aside, or a conqueror to grovel before.”</p><p>Pansy took a moment to ponder this statement. Though she hadn’t exactly kept up on the various lessons about politics that her parents had been so obsessed with when she was a young girl (even if said lessons often ended with “therefore, be an obedient Pureblood wife to a rich Noble Lord”), Pansy remembered enough to see the truth in Narcissa’s words.</p><p>Harry <em>was </em>an exceptional man in many ways, and the traits which Pansy found so endearing had nothing to do with his status as a wizard or a Lord… but, objectively, she could easily see that he was the single most politically-powerful figure in the Wizengamot, the most famous person in Magical Britain, and very likely the mightiest wizard alive.</p><p>She worried that his opponents might manage to frustrate him enough that he retreated back into obscurity. Even though Daph was going to be a great help in understanding the machinations of her father, none of the three of them had the same kind of experience to draw on, and Pansy would hate to see Harry turned into the figurehead of a cause he disagreed with.</p><p>“I’ve got a lot to think about,” Pansy huffed a breath, “but thank you, Narcissa, this has been very helpful.”</p><p>“I am happy to hear,” Narcissa smiled as if she knew a secret, “after all, I am a Black in name once again, so it is my obligation to safeguard the future of my House. As far as I can tell, it will be in fine hands.”</p><p>Pansy finished the last, cold dregs of her tea, and decided that she’d rather change the topic to something less daunting.</p><p>“So, there’s another Ministry ball coming up in a month, isn’t there? Any plans for what you might be wearing that night?”</p><p><em>Yeah, that’s already better, </em>she thought, diligently putting politics out of her mind for a little while.</p><hr/><p>“I dunno,” Daphne said, “do you really think he’ll go for it?”</p><p>“My sweet,” Pansy argued, “how could he <em>not</em>?”</p><p>“I mean, I know that Harry’s <em>Harry </em>and all,” Daphne answered, “but he hasn’t really taken any steps in that direction, you know?”</p><p>“He just needs a bit of a nudge,” Pansy purred, “then I’m sure he’ll get on board.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“It’s still up to you, of course,” Pansy did her best to reassure her girlfriend, “if you don’t think you’re ready, then I’m quite happy to take sole responsibility, you know.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s not that,” Daphne stated, “it’s just awfully hard to tell what he actually wants sometimes, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Well, that’s why I’m taking initiative,” Pansy agreed, “we can show him that the door’s open, but it’s up to Mister Gryffindor to actually muster up the courage to take advantage of the opportunity.”</p><p>“I guess I’m just nervous about what happens if he’s not interested,” Daphne murmured, “I’d feel awfully foolish.”</p><p>“Sweet,” Pansy used every form of persuasion available to her, “we both know him better than that. Even though he’s all deferential about actually coming up with ideas, it’s not like he looks down on us for the ones that we come up with.”</p><p>“I know I’m being foolish right now,” Daphne giggled nervously, “and I hope I’m not scaring you off either, I think this is just, well, everything else bleeding over into <em>this</em>.”</p><p>“That’s alright,” Pansy hushed her, “and that’s precisely why I’m taking the lead right now. It’s not like I’m involved in the public side of things like you two are, so I might as well contribute where I am the expert, mm?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne sighed into a half-giggle, “I also hope that you aren’t using my nerves as an excuse to do anything drastic.”</p><p>“Drastic? Me? <em>Never</em>.”</p><p>“Pans…”</p><p>“Okay, well, maybe a little. Just a little, though.”</p><p>“<em>Pansy</em>.”</p><p>“I got a bit eager, and I miiiight have jumped the gun a tiny amount,” Pansy smirked.</p><p>“Did you, now?” Daphne quirked an eyebrow in curiosity.</p><p>“We have to prepare ahead of time, after all,” Pansy’s smirk grew into a dangerous grin, “and I think I found just the thing.”</p><p>Pansy retrieved a plain, almost clandestine box from its hiding place, and opened it to show Daphne the contents within.</p><p>“Oh,” Daphne stared with wide eyes, “those are-“</p><p>“Mhmm,” Pansy hummed with satisfaction.</p><p>“Matching, too?”</p><p>“I thought it fitting.”</p><p>“Well, then,” Daphne continued looking for a moment longer, “I guess I’m in.”</p><p>“I knew you would be,” Pansy spoke with satisfaction, as another one of her plans grew closer to becoming a reality.</p><hr/><p>With nothing better to do while Daphne and Harry were busy being spotted out for dinner with one another, Pansy decided she might as well spend the evening at <em>Serpentine, </em>trying out a few new designs while she felt particularly creative.</p><p>Her business had been running smoothly over the past few weeks, even if she was beginning to question the wisdom in running a storefront when the bulk of her orders came as private commissions. If nothing else, at least it gave Michel something to do (she’d hired him as a shopkeeper half because he needed to stay busy while Blaise was at work, and half because it helped her image to have the fashionable Frenchman lounging around), but Pansy was starting to feel like she almost had too much free time on her hands.</p><p>Especially compared to her partners, who were deeply embroiled in a carefully-designed social calendar. Pansy couldn’t quite find it in herself to <em>complain </em>about having an easy, comfortable life, but it was certainly an unfamiliar status, and she’d begun to find herself a bit stir-crazy, wanting to do more.</p><p>The Floo inside her shop unexpectedly flared to life, before the face of the other Delacour frequently found at <em>Serpentine </em>emerged from the flames.</p><p>“Ah, good,” Fleur spoke, “I was ‘oping you would still be there.”</p><p>“You know,” Pansy asserted, “you can always send me a message when you want to get a hold of me, you don’t have to Firecall around until you track me down.”</p><p>“But why?” Fleur’s grin, magnified by the way her face was projected in fire, was just short of ‘predatory’, “the notebooks, they are not really talking, non? Anyways, I will be right over.”</p><p>Pansy had conclusively figured out that, as a general rule, Fleur acted, and the world around her responded to her whims.</p><p>The Floo went quiet, before immediately whirling into green flames once again, and the woman herself emerged from the fireplace, as elegant and unshaken by Floo travel as she always was.</p><p>“Bonjour, Pansy,” Fleur announced herself, “I have had ideas of outfits that I wish to commission. Zis means, of course, that my new measurements must be taken, <em>oui</em>?”</p><p>“<em>Oui,</em>” Pansy replied, unable to hide a smirk of her own.</p><p>She supposed that, in some ways, this unexpected new friendship made sense. Fleur Delacour certainly shared many of Pansy’s interests (from fashion to strongly-held views on the merits of different European cities), and the two women also possessed some similarities to each other in their personalities.</p><p>Certainly, Pansy respected Fleur’s unshakable confidence and utter lack of shame, even if these behaviours sometimes inspired some of the rare occasions where Pansy ever felt less impressive in comparison to someone else. Not that she felt inferior, of course (no force capable of that existed), but, well, Fleur was basically a Veela goddess.</p><p>She also appreciated that she had to stay <em>sharp </em>around Fleur; while Pansy doubted that the French witch had any truly nefarious goals in mind, it was plainly evident that she was a talented schemer, and often engaged in subtle taunting or teasing that Pansy found entertaining to fire back against.</p><p><em>It makes sense why Blaise and Michel hit it off so well, </em>Pansy mused.</p><p>When Fleur strutted across the shop floor and brought Pansy into a friendly embrace, leaning down to kiss her cheeks in greeting, Pansy found herself with an entire eyeful of Fleur’s very tight, <em>extremely </em>low-cut blouse.</p><p>“Did you get even taller?” Pansy muttered in near awe. While Pansy was definitely on the shorter side of things, Fleur absolutely towered over her, in a way that she hadn’t noticed at their last meeting a couple of weeks prior.</p><p>“<em>Un petite peu,</em>” Fleur answered, acting as if she wasn’t aware of the way she’d very nearly shoved Pansy’s face into her tits, “it is as I say, as I become a bit more Veela, well, zere will be changes.”</p><p>“Why is that?” Pansy wondered, “I mean, I’ve seen other Veela before, none of them were as tall as you are now.”</p><p>“Who is to say?” Fleur shrugged easily, “perhaps it is because I was already a woman when I reconnected wiz my heritage, or it may be that my stature is a reflection of my magical power, <em>non</em>?”</p><p>“Mm,” Pansy hummed, “not sure about that one. It’s not like Harry’s nine feet tall, after all. C’mon, <em>legs, </em>I’ve got a bottle of red in the back.”</p><p>“Ah, quite right,” Fleur agreed, “and where is ‘Arry tonight, while you are working so late?”</p><p><em>It’s like seven o’ clock, </em>Pansy thought, <em>hardly “late</em>”.</p><p>She strongly suspected that another similarity shared between herself and Fleur was that Fleur, too, was getting bored. After Fleur’s very public divorce from Bill Weasley, she’d become a full-blown socialite with what sounded like an active night life, but Pansy remembered how that kind of lifestyle could become bafflingly routine after a while.</p><p>It seemed that trying to goad Pansy into various reactions while also crafting a new wardrobe every few months had become Fleur’s new hobby, and Pansy had to admit that she really didn’t mind if that was how Fleur wanted to amuse herself. <em>At least it’ll help stop me from going completely soft, </em>Pansy reasoned.</p><p>“Oh, Harry’s out at dinner with Daph,” Pansy answered, “part of that whole ‘courtship between Lord Potter-Black and Miss Greengrass’ thing.”  </p><p>“Ah, but of course,” Fleur replied smoothly, “I admit, eet is curious to me that it is Susan Bones playing the part of his other lady, rather than yourself.”</p><p>“You can’t play all your cards at once,” Pansy replied, flicking her wand to open the bottle of red wine she’d mentioned, “I rather thought you’d understand that.”</p><p>“Quite so,” Fleur graciously accepted the glass which floated over to her, “it is just, hmm, I do not think I would be as patient as you are, were I in your position. I admire your willpower; it must be difficult to stay free of jealousy.”</p><p><em>Well, aren’t you all fired up tonight, </em>Pansy thought, <em>wonder what’s got you so thorny?</em></p><p>“Jealousy is an awfully petty emotion,” she drawled in response, “I’m quite comfortable with the situation, as it turns out.”</p><p>“You are so accommodating,” Fleur continued, “Susan, she does not like you very much, <em>non</em>?”</p><p>“Oh, we’re great friends,” Pansy took a sip of her own wine, “haven’t even tried to hex each other once recently, you know.”</p><p>“I am happy to hear that,” Fleur smirked with a cruel glint in her eye, “I would hate to hear that she might intend to replace you, you know.”</p><p>“Why, darling,” Pansy laughed, “I thought you would have figured out already, I’m simply irreplaceable.”</p><p>“I do hope that Harry is as wise as you,” Fleur jabbed, “it would be rather tragic if he did anything foolish, mm?”</p><p>“Well, doing foolish things is half of his nature,” Pansy swirled her glass, “but he’s altogether a rather reliable man. Hmm, that reminds me, what of you? Any luck finding a capable sort of man lately?”</p><p>“Sadly, <em>non</em>,” Fleur absolutely didn’t look sad, “it is almost enough to inspire me to pursue other avenues.”</p><p>“What a pity,” Pansy replied, and she would readily agree that it actually <em>was</em> a pity that nobody had proven capable of satisfying Fleur in the way she – apparently – desired.</p><p><em>Merlin knows that if it was a year ago, </em>Pansy mused, <em>I’d be champing at the bit to volunteer.</em></p><p>She wasn’t blind to the fact that Fleur was well aware of Pansy’s attraction to her (the embarrassing incident where Pansy had fallen under Fleur’s <em>allure </em>was proof enough of that), but neither could she ignore that this particular dynamic added an additional level of intrigue to the little games they tended to play.</p><p><em>Who knows, maybe we’ll find out one day, </em>Pansy thought, <em>but right now, that’s far too complicated to handle. </em></p><p>“And here I am,” Fleur spoke, “nearly forgetting the reason which I came here in the first place!”</p><p>Fleur stood to her impressive height, and confidently began to undress herself.</p><p>“I do require new measurements, after all!”</p><p>“But of course,” Pansy answered, not even bothering to disguise her gaze. She’d have to be <em>literally </em>blind not to stare at a half-naked Fleur Delacour, after all. Of course, while Pansy took in the intricate set of lingerie that Fleur was wearing, she suspected that this outcome was simply another layer in their back-and-forth taunting.</p><p>She retrieved her measuring tape without further delay, dutifully taking stock of Fleur’s legs (which had, in fact, become longer), followed by her hips (if Pansy’s gaze lingered on Fleur’s arse, well, that’s simply to be expected) and waist (which, somehow, tapered in even more impossibly than it had before).</p><p>“Hmm,” Pansy muttered, “kneel down.”</p><p>“Pardon?” Fleur smirked in a way which indicated she’d heard what Pansy said perfectly well.</p><p>“Since you’re even more ridiculously tall than you already were,” Pansy explained, “I can’t measure your bust properly from this level.”</p><p>“Oh,” Fleur’s smirk deepened, “well, why don’t you retrieve a stool, then?”</p><p>“Much simpler if you simply kneel,” Pansy argued, unwilling to back down. After a moment, Fleur decided to acquiesce to this challenge, elegantly dropping down onto her knees.</p><p><em>Not a bad look on you, </em>Pansy amused herself, as she forced her hands to stay strictly professional while wrapping the tape around Fleur’s ribcage. The struggle was even more difficult when she raised it to measure Fleur’s considerable bust, which – <em>of fucking course </em>– had also grown from when Pansy had first measured her.</p><p>“You’re right,” Pansy muttered, “your measurements have changed.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Fleur smiled, as she rose back to a standing position, “I will mail you some sketches of what I have in mind tomorrow, I am quite looking forward to working with you on these new designs, you know.”</p><p>“I’m quite looking forward to you wearing them,” Pansy admitted, “you make a rather effective advertisement for <em>Serpentine</em>, after all.”</p><p>“Very good,” Fleur grinned again, before turning to walk back towards the Floo, her clothes casually carried in her hands, instead of getting dressed again.</p><p>“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pansy inquired.</p><p>“Mm? No, I am returning home, I see no need to dress myself only to get nude immediately after,” Fleur answered, and Pansy swore that there was an extra sway in her hips as she walked away, “I will see you soon, Pansy, have a good night.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pansy muttered, “goodnight, Fleur.”</p><p><em>Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not quite as involved in politics as Harry and Daph are, </em>she thought, when Fleur left her shop, <em>I don’t know if <strong>I</strong> could even handle political intrigue and that fucking Veela at the same time. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pretty conversation-heavy for this chapter, but it's necessary for establishing the sort of mindset that Pansy's in as the trio start to enter the political fray, as well as hinting at some of the contributions that Pansy might make to these efforts. </p><p>Daphne's up next, with a chapter which shakes up the status quo a bit, and things will start getting a bit more intense from there!</p><p>Let me know what you thought of this chapter :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Embryo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daphne goes through some developments in her family life</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>The day began much like any other: Daphne sat at the kitchen table, idly skimming through the Daily Prophet, while Harry hovered around the stove, preparing breakfast with a practiced ease. Pansy, meanwhile, clutched her cup of horribly sweet coffee with both hands, as if her grip on it was the only thing allowing her to tolerate being awake.</p><p>Daphne supposed that the fact that they had seamlessly developed a morning routine at some point was another little sign of how easily the three fit together. Though they’d never formally discussed it or decided on an official change of status, it was obvious that – for all intents and purposes – both she and Pansy had moved in with Harry over the last few months.</p><p>Though she still kept her flat, Daphne’s previous residence was really more focused on serving as her studio at that point. Similarly, Pansy remained a tenant of the apartment she shared with Blaise, but in practice it had become more of a place for her to sleep over occasionally when it suited her own whims.</p><p>The trio had only been together <em>officially </em>for around half a year, and yet Daphne had a hard time picturing her life without her partners in it. She couldn’t help but wonder at times if there was a shoe waiting to drop that she hadn’t noticed, but her over-cautious instincts had failed to uncover any reason to doubt their lives together.</p><p><em>Hell, </em>Daphne thought, <em>bringing another woman into our bed didn’t even change anything. </em></p><p>If anything, the chance they’d taken to engage in the “sort of open in some circumstances” nature of their three-person relationship had seemed to have nothing but positive effects; Pansy was certainly the most enthusiastic of the three in all regards, but Harry seemed to possess a bit more cockiness (<em>in a good way</em>) after the fact, and Daphne herself found that it had proved to be an odd kind of reassurance of the strength of the unique connection the three shared.</p><p>Her analytical sort of musing about her relationship was interrupted by the <em>pinging </em>of her enchanted notebook, indicating that she had received a new message. The first tone was followed immediately by a second, and then a third, and fourth.</p><p><em>“Daph!” </em>the message read, when she opened it. “<em>It’s Ron. I’m using her notebook. Stori’s going into labour. We’re at St. Mungo’s, room O-21.”</em></p><p>“Oh!” Daphne gasped in excitement, “Harry! Astoria’s giving birth today!”</p><p>“Right,” Harry nodded, “let’s head over. Should we bring anything?”</p><p>“I don’t know!” Daphne stood from the table, “but, yes, let’s get going!”</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry exclaimed, “I need to get dressed. Can’t show up like this.”</p><p>The picture of her boyfriend rushing into a maternity ward in his shorts, a t-shirt, and slippers was strangely endearing to Daphne, as was the way that he practically ran out of the kitchen without a second thought.  </p><p>“You two should arrive separately,” Pansy murmured, rising from her seat to walk over to Daphne and lay her arms around the blonde’s shoulders, “you’re both godparents, yeah, so it won’t seem odd that you’re both there, but showing up together might raise questions we don’t want to answer yet.”</p><p>“Right, of course,” Daphne agreed, grateful for the reminder that their relationship was not quite public knowledge, “thanks, Pans. I wish you could come with us.”</p><p>“I’ll be there for the next one,” Pansy smirked, “your sister married a Weasley, after all, they’re a rather fertile lot. Besides, I need to hang back so that the kitchen doesn’t burn down from that pan of bacon which Potter just abandoned.”</p><p>“Couldn’t do it without you, Pans,” Harry replied as he rushed back into the kitchen, his glasses sitting half-askew on his face as he hurriedly pulled a jumper on.</p><p>“Damn right,” Pansy drawled, and flicked her wrist to levitate a piece of toast across the room and into their boyfriend’s mouth, “you might as well head over, you big lug, so that you and Ronald can run around being maniacs until Daph gets there.”</p><p>“Mhmm,” Harry muttered around his breakfast, “you’re the best. Love you.”</p><p>He planted a partially toast-covered kiss to Pansy’s lips (she rolled her eyes, but wasn’t able to hide her smile entirely) before turning around to run out of the room once again, and the <em>whoosh </em>of his Floo marked his departure.</p><p>“I need you to promise me,” Pansy muttered, “if the day ever comes where I’m the one laying around waiting to give birth? Slip a calming potion into his coffee, will you?”</p><p>Daphne tittered in nervously-excited laughter.</p><p>“I’ll do my best,” she promised, “because I love you too, you know.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Pansy smirked, “I love both of you, and all that sentimental stuff. Now, you have a bite to eat, I’ll go grab a set of clothes for you, but then you should get going too. Merlin knows that those two boys need <em>somebody </em>responsible around.”</p><p>Daphne couldn’t help but agree; Harry and Ronald were both rather excitable men, and this was a big day for Ron, for his family.</p><p><em>For my family too, </em>Daphne thought.</p><p>She wolfed down half a serving of eggs and drank the rest of her tea far too quickly to come close to resembling “polite”, then shuffled into the plain skirt-and-blouse outfit that Pansy delivered to her.</p><p>“Right, I’m heading out, then,” Daphne announced.</p><p>“I’ll see you soon,” Pansy replied, then kissed her softly, wrapping an arm around Daphne’s back to pull her close, “it’ll be fine. You’ve got this.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne agreed, “I hope so.”</p><p>She stepped into the Floo.</p><hr/><p>True to Pansy’s prediction, Harry and Ronald had worked each other into a state of near-mania by the time Daphne arrived at St. Mungo’s.</p><p>“What if they turn out like me?” Ronald practically shrieked, “I mean, Merlin, I’ll love them no matter what, but, I’m not good at much outside of Wizard’s chess, I’m not smart like Stori is, you know?”</p><p>“I’m quite sure,” Daphne spoke to announce her presence, “that many children could do worse than having one of the more heroic men in the world for a father.”</p><p>“That’s true, mate,” Harry agreed, “besides, even if it turns out that your kid winds up like a little version of you, at least they’ll have the makings of a passable enough keeper, yeah?”</p><p>“Sod off,” Ronald chuckled, “good to see you, Daph. Thanks for coming so quickly, you two.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Harry murmured.</p><p>“How long do they think it’ll be?” Daphne asked.</p><p>“Not long now,” Ronald answered, “I feel like I should be in there with her, but Stori threw me out. Said that she didn’t want me seeing her ‘shrieking like a blast-ended skrewt’, can you imagine?”</p><p>Daphne could, in fact, imagine her sister saying this.</p><p>“Have you guys picked out a name yet?” Harry interjected.</p><p>“Yeah, got a couple,” Ronald muttered, “we still don’t know if they’ll be a boy or a girl, y’know? But we have some options, either way.”</p><p>Daphne thought it was one of the subtler indications of Astoria’s occasional gestures towards the traditions of Wizardkind, that she’d choose to stick to the traditional practices of childbirth, which mandated these small decisions such as not having the father present at the actual moment of birth, or not using the variety of scrying spells which could predict the child’s sex ahead of time.</p><p>However, Astoria clearly didn’t adhere entirely to these traditions: she was, after all, giving birth at a hospital, rather than in a chamber somewhere deep in a Greengrass estate. Her husband may not have been present, but neither were – <em>thank Merlin for that </em>– the various women of her House.</p><p>Astoria’s voice echoed through the door in a loud scream, and Ron leapt to his feet, pacing back and forth nervously and muttering under his breath the whole time. After a few moments which felt like hours, the door opened, and a kindly-looking woman in a nurse’s uniform stepped through.</p><p>“Mister Greengrass?” she spoke, and Daphne flicked her gaze behind her before she realized that the nurse was using Ronald’s legal name, “your wife is ready to see you. She’s had a healthy child.”</p><p>Ronald whooped in celebration before immediately disappearing through the door.</p><p>“He’s going to be a great dad, actually,” Harry spoke softly, “the Weasleys can be a lot, sure, but they were actually the closest to being parents of mine that I ever knew.”</p><p>Daphne wanted to embrace her boyfriend, and found herself cursing the fiction that they’d crafted for their public interactions. While it was to be expected that – as a “courting” pair – they’d be comfortable with each other’s company, making public gestures of affection (that the hospital staff might wind spreading rumours about) was out of their reach, for now.</p><p>“They’re very kind people,” Daphne answered, “the child will certainly not lack for various uncles spoiling them.”</p><p>“Heh, yeah,” Harry smiled, a hint of emotion in his eyes, “until the first time that George sends the kid home with a whole bag of Wizarding Wheezes, and your sister bans them from going to his shop unsupervised.”</p><p>“That seems plausible,” Daphne giggled. While Daphne certainly had a higher level of tolerance for chaos than most (<em>I’m dating Harry <strong>and </strong>Pansy, after all</em>, she thought), George Weasley sometimes approached even her limits. Astoria was nowhere near as patient when it came to disorder and unpredictability, which was sure to become a thorn in her side as her child grew up.</p><p><em>There are many worse problems a family could have, </em>Daphne mused happily.</p><hr/><p>Daphne’s first thought on meeting her nephew and godson was that yes, he was, in fact, a baby.</p><p>She supposed that the scenario may have become somewhat over-romanticized in her mind; thanks to her upbringing as a future Pureblood wife (and perhaps the cheesy romance novels she’d read as a girl), she had half-expected that the child might have already looked like a clear blend of Ronald and Astoria’s features, that he might have been born with a shock of red or black hair.</p><p>Instead, her nephew was just… an infant, like any other she’d seen. He was tiny, pink, bald, and fragile-looking, and while he was certainly as “cute” as any baby was, the sight of him didn’t immediately inspire a sense of familial awe in Daphne.</p><p>“You two,” Astoria’s voice rasped, still strained from her earlier efforts, “meet your godchild.”</p><p>“Hey, kid,” Harry murmured, the phrase ridiculously out of place for the scenario in a way that Daphne found oddly charming.</p><p>“Harry James Potter-Black,” Astoria spoke, engaging in the ritualized language that was another Pureblood tradition, “Daphne Victoria Greengrass, you have sworn to safeguard and shelter this child, should need arise.”</p><p>“I’d do anything,” Harry spoke, and Daphne wondered if he were much more overcome with paternal instincts than she was by their maternal equivalent.</p><p>“He is my blood and ward,” Daphne answered in equivalently traditional language, “my hearth shall be as his own.”</p><p>“This,” Astoria announced, “is Frederick Creon Greengrass.”</p><p>It was a strong, traditional name. Daphne could clearly spot Astoria’s influence in their choice, from how his middle name originated from Greek, to how <em>both </em>his given names carried the meaning of “ruler”. <em>Those names would fit perfectly into the Greengrass family tree</em>, Daphne thought.</p><p>Neither did Daphne miss the boy’s true namesake: Ron’s fallen brother, Fred.</p><p>Daphne was struck by the bittersweet realization of how this boy already carried a legacy, only hours into his life. His name spoke of glory, power, and war, but also of love, family, and remembrance.</p><p>She felt tears at the corners of her eyes, and couldn’t even begin to identify the emotion responsible. Fortunately, she was not the only one so afflicted; Ronald had been spouting like a fountain ever since they’d been allowed into Astoria’s room, occasionally muttering quiet expressions of awe such as “my boy” or “that’s my son”.</p><p>Daphne certainly felt happy for her sister, and proud of the life that she and Ronald had built together – it was not as if she felt melancholy, or anything so unfitting as that – but when she looked at Harry’s face, she saw a beaming <em>joy </em>in his eyes which she simply couldn’t understand. She recalled how excited she’d been when Astoria had first disclosed her pregnancy, and yet the only way she could describe her feelings was a sort of contended acceptance.  </p><p>She felt selfish for being wrapped up in her own thoughts on the biggest day of her sister’s life so far, and chastised herself for being so preoccupied with her own circumstances. <em>After all, </em>Daphne thought, <em>aren’t we trying to make the world a better place for children like Frederick? </em></p><hr/><p>As they were departing the hospital, the precise event that Daphne had hoped so desperately to avoid came to pass. Mere meters from the exit, Daphne’s parents rounded the corner.</p><p>She saw her father’s eyes lock on her, then immediately flick to the side to stare at Harry, who was walking a perfectly respectable distance away from her side.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” her father spoke, crossing the distance between them, “my greetings.”</p><p>The two men exchanged a handshake, and Daphne noticed Harry’s jaw clench even as the rest of his body language remained relaxed and open.</p><p>“Lord Greengrass,” Harry answered, in perfectly-coached etiquette (<em>thanks to Pansy and myself,</em> Daphne mused), “I offer my congratulations to you and your family. Your grandchild is a healthy infant, and I am sure they will be a proud member of your House.”</p><p>“Daphne,” a female voice interjected, “it’s good to see you.”</p><p>“You as well, mother,” Daphne answered, forcing her tone to stay even.</p><p>While Daphne didn’t truly <em>resent </em>her mother in the same way that she did her father, she could not forgive her complicity in her father’s actions, as much as Daphne might be able to understand why her mother would behave that way.</p><p>Daphne’s mother – Veronica Greengrass – was, after all, the very image of a “proper Pureblood woman”. She was the type for whom the status quo was not merely a comfortable position, but rather an overarching goal to be pursued with every action in her life.</p><p>She hadn’t even laid eyes on her mother in months (<em>not since the Malfoy wedding last year</em>), and it had been much longer since her mother had made any efforts to communicate with her. While Veronica more closely resembled Astoria in appearance (dark of hair, and shorter than Daphne), Daphne’s old reputation as the “ice queen” had come partly from her efforts to emulate her mother; someone with a quiet, prim, and cool disposition.</p><p>The way that Daphne knew her mother as someone not exactly predisposed to affection or warmth made it even more shocking when Veronica brought her into a full embrace, rather than exchanging curtsies or a delicate handshake.</p><p>“I am so happy for you,” Veronica whispered, “I know that we have argued in the past, but it warms my heart to see that you have seen reason.”</p><p>“Mm?” Daphne hummed in response, not quite willing to trust her words.</p><p>“The Lord Potter-Black is a fine man,” Veronica continued, “I could scarcely picture a more fitting match for you, my daughter.”</p><p>“It is not like you think,” Daphne protested quietly.</p><p>It wasn’t exactly surprising that her mother would have heard of the “courtship” ongoing between Harry and herself, but Daphne was unsure why she seemed to be treating it as a sure thing, since she shouldn’t have had any idea of their true relationship.</p><p>“I do not mean to pry,” her mother spoke, as Daphne noticed that Harry and her father had stepped to the side, conversing quietly, “but a mother has a way of knowing. I was so very pleased to hear what your father told me.”</p><p>Daphne’s world froze over.</p><p>Her thoughts crystallized into a repeated refrain to think rationally, to stop herself from lashing out or doing anything dramatic.</p><p>“What has father told you?” Daphne asked, forcing the words from her lips.</p><p>“Oh, it is hardly a secret,” her mother answered, “that he and Lord Potter-Black are working together in the Wizengamot. I had not thought that the young Lord was such a capable politician, but from what Cyrus has said, his recent successes have as much to do with Lord Potter-Black’s support as they do his own initiative.”</p><p>Daphne’s breath caught in her chest.</p><p>It became hard to hear anything other than the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, as it felt like her surroundings closed in around her, a cold spike of panic burying itself in her spine.</p><p>“Yes, he seems a rather capable man,” Daphne felt as if she was watching someone else speak through her lips.</p><p>“I had feared that we had lost you, you know,” Veronica smiled sadly, “I do not begrudge you for being swept up in the frivolities of youth, of course, but I can see that you’ve remembered yourself, and now you’re becoming the fine young woman that we raised you to be.”</p><p>“A Pureblood woman has many duties,” Daphne had to squeeze the idiom from her throat, which tried to clench and squeeze around the falsehood.</p><p>“Of course,” Veronica nodded, “I do not understand what it must be like to become a second wife, but I’m glad that you have the strength to tolerate the requirements of Lord Potter-Black’s position.”</p><p>Daphne tried to speak, but didn’t trust her body to make more than a pained squawking sound, so chose to nod slowly in turn.</p><p>“To tell the truth,” Veronica whispered, “we were afraid that the Lord Potter-Black would reject your father’s proposal.”</p><p>“Oh?” Daphne gasped.</p><p>“Well, we feared that the young Lord might prefer to pursue another woman renowned for her role in the war,” Veronica continued, “but it is fortunate that he could see the wisdom in a match with you, as Cyrus suggested to him.”</p><p>
  <em>No. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t. </em>
</p><p>“You and Lord Potter-Black will have to join us for dinner, one evening,” Daphne’s mother concluded, “but for now, it is time for me to meet my first grandchild. Good day, daughter.”</p><p>Daphne felt her feet lead her outside as her lungs attempted to crush themselves, her body feeling equally as stiff and frozen as her thoughts.</p><p><em>I have to get home, </em>she thought.</p><p>The world whirled around her, and with a <em>crack</em>, Daphne disappeared from the street in front of St. Mungo’s.</p><hr/><p>“Sweet!” Pansy cried, when Daphne apparated directly into the living room of 12 Grimmauld Place, “what’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Do you need-“</p><p>“The baby is fine,” Daphne snapped, “I just spoke to my mother.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Pansy answered, before she closed the distance between herself and Daphne in an instant, wrapping her girlfriend tightly in her arms, “you’re fine now, you’re home, okay?”</p><p>Daphne felt all the crushing tension in her chest expel itself into a sob, as she sagged into Pansy’s arms.</p><p>Another crack sounded, and Harry appeared in their house.</p><p>“What happened?” he barked, his expression a blend of concern and outrage.</p><p>“Not the time to go around blowing up,” Pansy muttered, “Daph’s hurting right now.”</p><p>“It might help to blow something up,” Daphne laughed, which quickly turned into another sob.</p><p>“Hey,” Harry spoke softly, as he wrapped himself around the other side of her, “it’s going to be alright. Whatever she said, she’s wrong, okay?”</p><p><em>She’s not, </em>Daphne thought, <em>I’m the one that was wrong.</em></p><p>
  <em>I thought that I was free of all this, that I’d broken free of his control, and here I am… as soon as I dip my toes back into the world I left behind, I’m nothing but a pawn for father to enhance his status, after all.</em>
</p><p>“Hmm,” Pansy hummed, drawing her arms even more tightly around Daphne, “it’ll be okay, love. No matter what, you’ve got the two of us, fuck everyone else.”</p><p>“I’m not opposed to throwing some hexes around if you want me to,” Harry murmured, “whatever you need, Daph. We’re here.”</p><p>“This isn’t something you can hex away,” Daphne sighed sadly, “we’re getting outplayed.”</p><p>“What happened?” Pansy asked softly.</p><p>“My father,” Daphne answered, “has taken the plans we had, and he’s running with them now.”</p><p>“He did seem strangely friendly,” Harry grumbled.</p><p>“From what my mother said,” Daphne’s voice hitched, but she forced herself to continue, “he is portraying our ‘courtship’ as <em>his </em>idea, he’s totally undermined that whole thing. I should have seen it coming.”</p><p>“We don’t have to keep it up if you don’t want to,” Harry murmured, but Daphne rubbed her hand over his forearm, silencing his argument before it started.</p><p>“No, we should,” Daphne grumbled, “reacting impulsively will just play into his hands even more. It’s just… <strong><em>fuck</em></strong>, I thought I was free from being his puppet.”</p><p>“You’re nobody’s puppet, my sweet,” Pansy protested, “you are, in fact, one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”</p><p>“Of course,” Daphne spoke, “I’m a powerful young Pureblood witch of status, an ideal representative of House Greengrass, aren’t I?”</p><p>“You’re much more than that,” Harry argued, “you know we don’t care about that.”</p><p>“I know,” Daphne agreed, “but <em>I </em>do. My fucking mother told me that she’s proud of me, that I’m becoming everything they dreamed of.”</p><p>“She has no idea what you’re really like,” Pansy said, “this just means that the fiction we’ve crafted is working, yeah?”</p><p><em>It’s working a little too well. “Find a good man to wed,” </em>Daphne recalled the lessons of her childhood, <em>“one of appropriate status, who can provide for you in the way that you deserve.</em>”</p><p>
  <em>Do my motivations even matter if that’s exactly what I wound up doing?</em>
</p><p>Even Pansy’s share of their relationship could be seen as tailor-made to Pureblood expectations: another Pureblood woman of "good breeding" (<em>we're </em><em>both part of the fucking “Sacred Twenty-Eight”, even</em>), with a history of moving in traditional circles. To many, the bond that Pansy and Daphne shared could be written off as nothing more than a particularly cooperative agreement where each claimed one of Harry’s two Houses.</p><p>She wondered if, instead of subverting the institutions and traditions that the three of them sought to undermine, they were instead just falling blindly into line.</p><p>Daphne couldn’t help but recall the summary that Pansy had given of her conversation with Narcissa Black. At the time, the claim that Narcissa had made – that Cyrus Greengrass and his allies may have been attempting to mould Harry Potter into a “proper Pureblood Lord” – had sounded ridiculous, but now? If Harry wound up playing that role for the rest of his life, didn’t the traditionalists succeed in forestalling any sort of meaningful change?</p><p><em>They managed to ensnare Albus Dumbledore in these same traps, </em>Daphne recalled another piece of Narcissa’s advice, <em>why were we so arrogant as to think ourselves beyond that risk?<br/></em></p><p>“Daph,” Harry’s voice cut through her introspection, “you know me pretty well by now, right?”</p><p>“I’d hope so,” Daphne agreed.</p><p>“From everything you know about me,” Harry leaned his chin against her head, “would you say that I’m particularly good at following rules?”</p><p>“Er, not so much, no,” Daphne admitted.</p><p>“That’s an understatement,” Pansy snorted.</p><p>“Right, so, if it comes down to it,” Harry continued, “I’ll quite happily burn the whole thing to the ground. I’ve got loads of experience being publicly despised, if your dad tries to throw you under the bus to keep us in line, I’ve got no problem taking the blame for it.”</p><p>“That’s ridiculous,” Daphne argued, “this whole plan hinges on you becoming a rising star, not a pariah.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry muttered, “that’s because we’re planning on doing things the right way, taking the high road. If the cost of that is you being so unhappy? Fuck it, I’ve got plenty of options for taking the low road.”</p><p>“At least <em>try </em>not to literally burn the Wizengamot to the ground,” Pansy grumbled, but Daphne saw a smile cross her features, “but for what it’s worth, the same goes for me. Half of Magical Britain still thinks that I’m a burgeoning Dark Witch, after all. If I have to start poisoning people to get them off your back? Not exactly off-brand.”</p><p>“Let’s leave that as a last resort,” Daphne laughed, and felt some of the tension leave her body, “no, I’m being unfair right now. I knew that I’d have to act as someone I’m not if we were going to pull this off, I can’t chicken out just because my father is an arsehole.”</p><p>“Just say the word,” Harry kissed the top of her head, “you don’t have to take on more than you can handle.”</p><p><em>Says the man who’s been battling Dark Magic since he was eleven, </em>Daphne thought.</p><p>“No, I can do this,” she steeled herself, “this is bigger than us, after all. I can deal with being uncomfortable for a bit, if it means we help to do the right thing.”</p><p>“Doing the wrong thing isn’t always so bad,” Pansy kissed Daphne’s cheek, “look where I wound up.”</p><p>“That’s a good point,” Harry chuckled, “after all, I doubt that your dad has figured out we have someone as terrible as Pansy Parkinson in our corner.”</p><p>“She’s not terrible,” Daphne smiled, “pretty amazing, actually. You both are.”</p><p>“I can be terrible <em>and </em>amazing,” Pansy argued, and nestled her head against the side of Daphne’s.</p><p>“You’re both incredible,” Harry agreed, “I couldn’t do this without you two.”</p><p>Daphne supposed that this held true for each of the three; despite all of their lingering flaws and foibles, the trio seemed to complete each other in various ways, each person meeting different needs for the other two. Even the “traditional” view of their relationship (which would see the trio as a powerful alliance) missed the full picture.</p><p><em>Maybe I<strong> can</strong> really do this, </em>Daphne thought, as the last remnants of her panic and self-loathing finally drained out of her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was a bit concerned this chapter would be too heavy-handed, but I eventually decided that this is a fair representation of the types of issues that Daphne is still struggling with. After all, the biggest struggle in her life is the lingering impact of the expectations placed on her during her childhood; in my opinion it's unrealistic that she'd be able to brush these experiences aside while navigating a situation which is so directly tied to that trauma.</p><p>With that said, I know that Daphne has tended to become the angstiest of the trio, but this isn't going to become the sole focus of her characterization! The trio have come a long way from where they started at the beginning of this series, and they're an iron-clad support network for each other, but each of the three still has their own struggles they haven't entirely addressed (as outlined in the summary for this fic). There's also going to be parts where Pansy runs into issues with her impulsivity, or Harry tries to brush off major parts of his life because he doesn't want to think about them! </p><p>I just hope it's clear that Daphne isn't "the angsty one" :P </p><p>I'm looking forward to hearing thoughts on this chapter!</p><p>Up next - Harry sits the first of three readings of Cyrus's bill, attends a Ministry party, and then the trio have an afterparty ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Circulation (Daphne/Harry/Pansy)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry realizes Cyrus's next move at a Wizengamot session, discovers something new to worry about at the Ministry ball, then blows off some steam with Pansy and Daphne</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>Harry was quickly discovering that the focus on “tradition” held by a division of Wizarding society extended not only to their views on laws or social mores, but – apparently – to every facet of their practices. He figured that nothing else could explain the slavish devotion to pointless ceremonies in the Wizengamot, where the second session that he attended had begun almost exactly as the first had.</p><p>Sure, the weather had been a bit more committal that day (landing firmly on “downpour of rain”), but otherwise the call to order, opening remarks, and following outline of the day’s business was nothing meaningful in any way. Harry found himself struggling to summon the energy he needed to <em>care </em>about any of these goings-on, as they were more boring than even the driest History of Magic lecture he’d ever sat through back at Hogwarts.</p><p>When it finally came time for Cyrus Greengrass to announce the first reading of the bill he sought to pass, he had managed to get several words into his introduction before Harry had started to pay close enough attention to actually catch what he was saying.</p><p>“With the success of the Recognition of Magical Marriage Act proposed by Lord Potter-Black,” Cyrus spoke, “it is only logical that the same amount of care and prudence is applied to the remaining text of what would have been the furcated portion of the previously-titled ‘Marriage Reform and Modernization’ bill<em>.</em>”</p><p>Harry didn’t exactly appreciate the way that Cyrus publicly tied the two of them together in this way, but neither was he surprised by it. If nothing else, the man was <em>clever</em>, and the way that he’d managed not only to pick up on the scheme that Daphne and Harry had developed, but then to subvert that “courtship” for his own ends was proof enough.</p><p>Cyrus had been blunt enough about this – <em>for a</em> <em>cagey Pureblood, that is, </em>Harry thought – when he’d confronted Harry in the halls of St. Mungo’s. Though Daphne’s father hadn’t gone so far as to outright state “I know what you’re playing at”, he’d certainly done enough to insinuate it, all the while acting as if he were nothing but a cautious father looking out for his daughter’s future.</p><p>Harry understood, a little bit better, exactly why Daphne despised the man so much. He was every bit as much of a snake as men like Lucius Malfoy had been; but where the former Lord Malfoy had been prideful and arrogant nearly to the point of madness, Cyrus Greengrass seemed perfectly content to accept when he had been outplayed, only to use that defeat as fuel for one of his own gambits.</p><p>“Therefore,” Cyrus continued, “I propose that the remaining text be further divided into two separate bills, in order to more clearly delineate the areas of our society which these acts would regulate. The first – the Conditions for Termination of Marriage Act – shall define the scenarios by which a marriage might come to an end other than by death, including divorce. The second – the Restrictions and Requirements for Heads of Houses Act – shall specify the titular duties and responsibilities placed on those of us who are fortunate enough to oversee our Houses.”</p><p><em>Fuck, </em>Harry realized, <em>this is a play.</em></p><p>Cyrus was attributing the inspiration for this split of his previous bill (<em>now divided into thirds, with one-third already passed into law</em>) to Harry, but he suspected that he’d find quite a bit to object to when the remaining clauses were split from each other.</p><p>“This furcation shall now be put to vote, by simple majority of those in attendance,” Cyrus moved swiftly to the next stage of this scheme.</p><p>Harry couldn’t exactly vote against this proposal: not only would doing so weaken the strategy that he and his allies were still holding to (<em>play nice with Cyrus in public, disguise my opposition as if I’m actually on the same side</em>), but Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Cyrus was intentionally trying to bait him into disagreeing, that Lord Greengrass might be banking on his earlier provocations inspiring Harry to impulsively rebel against him.</p><p>Gritting his teeth (and hoping that his expression stayed neutral while doing so), Harry voted “<em>aye” </em>when it came time, wishing once more that Hermione was there beside him. He figured that she’d have a much better chance of seeing through the deeper strategy that Cyrus was playing at, even if Harry had already managed to puzzle out for himself that this vote tied Houses Greengrass and Potter-Black even more tightly together, as far as the neutral faction of the Wizengamot would see it.</p><p>“This motion passes,” Cyrus rapped his gavel against the stand, “with no further delay, the modified text of what has now become the bill to establish the Conditions for Termination of Marriage Act shall now undergo their first reading.”</p><p><em>Wait, “the modified text”? </em>Harry wondered.</p><p><em>Once again, fuck, </em>he cursed internally.</p><p>This must have been the play: by splitting Cyrus’s earlier bill into two parts, Harry himself had opened the door for Cyrus to make revisions to the contents of the remaining portion, allowing Cyrus to push these changes through without having to distribute copies of his bill ahead of time.</p><p>Sure enough, by the time that Cyrus got to the new text, Harry felt the jaws of Lord Greengrass’s trap springing around him. Where the first edition of the bill had contained provisions for divorce that were – at times – almost approaching “progressive”, the second edition had tied these provisions to others which would take Wizarding society several steps backwards into some earlier point in history.</p><p>The most obvious example was that the second edition of this bill pointedly did not place any restrictions on men who wished to take multiple wives (<em>women, of course, are still forbidden from more than one marriage at a time, </em>Harry realized bitterly). Worse, it went so far as to specify that any man with claims to multiple Houses would be <strong>required </strong>to pursue separate marriages for every single one of his claims in order to make <em>any </em>marriage of his valid.</p><p><em>He’s tied it to me, personally, </em>Harry realized, <em>if I fight against this, then I’d be helping to preserve divorce as an impossibility, keeping people trapped in bad marriages for my own benefit.</em></p><p>
  <em>For the third time, <strong>fuck. </strong></em>
</p><hr/><p>Harry’s mood had failed to improve by the time of the Ministry’s latest social event a couple of days later. While Daphne, Pansy, and Hermione had all been supremely capable (<em>more capable than me, that’s for sure</em>) in analyzing the text of Cyrus’s new bills, the members of their little conspiracy had landed firmly on the conclusion that this wasn’t a <em>good </em>thing for their cause.</p><p>Cyrus had been masterful in tying the most regressive restrictions on Heads of Houses to conditions which applied most obviously to Harry himself, leaving him stuck in a position where instead of fighting for other people’s rights, he’d come off as simply looking out for his own best interests when he opposed these proposals.</p><p>As much as he was trying to portray himself as a well-meaning but naïve new member of the Pureblood nobility, Harry found himself regretting his choice to become personally involved in politics, just barely able to remind himself to remain pleasant enough that he seemed “approachable” at this stupid Ministry ball.</p><p>The event was meant as a purely social one, a post-war tradition which the Ministry seemed intent to carry on indefinitely, judging by the short speech that Kingsley gave about “healing and cooperation” before the ball formally began. Harry had obligingly bumbled his way through the first dance with Sue (since she was meant to look like his “nearly betrothed”, after all), then the second dance with Daph (<em>I’m being ridiculous, complaining about having to dance with my girlfriend</em>), before he found a nice seat in the center of the room to sit and stew in.</p><p>Harry just wished he had more options available.</p><p>
  <em>Well…</em>
</p><p>He knew that if push came to shove, he could probably guarantee that any single bill would fail to pass, but opening those doors came with a whole litany of additional complications that Harry didn’t even care to think about.</p><p>Harry cared even less to think about the non-political avenues that he <em>could </em>explore if he became desperate enough; while duelling certainly had a presence in Wizarding politics, he feared that it would become far too easy for him to simply start throwing magic around any time he didn’t get his way.</p><p>With both of those options left as ideas which he pointedly did his level best to ignore, Harry was stuck playing a game that he wasn’t good at, against an opponent who was quite literally born and bred to participate in this arena.</p><p>He was, more than anything, thankful that he had such capable allies.</p><p>The guests in attendance that night were mostly limited to socialites and others whose ambitions tended to outstrip their actual status, and other than a single member of House Selwyn, most of Harry’s current set of foes were thankfully absent.</p><p>This left Daphne, Pansy, and even Susan to play their own roles to a ‘t’: Daphne milled around and presented a friendly (if guarded) front to the members of “neutral” houses in attendance; Pansy sat in a corner and entertained various guests from more “traditional” houses; and Susan shifted around in idle conversation with the leftovers.</p><p>It frustrated Harry that he couldn’t be seen as too close to any of the three. Certainly, he wished that he could be open about his affection for Pansy and Daphne, but even Susan (who was meant to be seen as his closest ally, as far as the public was concerned) was being strangely distant in how she navigated through the party.</p><p>Harry glanced over his shoulder, and saw that while Susan was engaged in conversation with a member of House Higgs (<em>one of the elected seats, a progressive newcomer, </em>Harry recalled), her own gaze was fixed on a point between Daphne and himself.</p><p>
  <em>That’s odd.</em>
</p><p>Sue was much more sociable than he was, and not exactly shy about expressing her views and intentions, which allowed Harry to pick up on the way that this wasn’t really her usual behaviour.</p><p>When Daphne moved away from a conversation with a member of House Abbott (<em>one of Hannah’s relatives, an old but not particularly prestigious house) </em>and started to wander to a different cluster of people<em>, </em>Susan wrapped up her own conversation abruptly, and moved through the room towards the area where Daphne had just been standing.</p><p><em>She’s triangulating, </em>Harry realized, immediately recognizing the defensive position his friend was taking, <em>keeping both Daphne and me in her line of sight.</em></p><p>His hand twitched towards his wand as his own gaze flickered around to take account of the guests at the ball, but even Harry’s own somewhat-paranoid instincts (‘<em>CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’,</em> his thoughts yelled) didn’t pick up on anything immediately concerning.</p><p>He rose from his seat. Harry figured that since he wasn’t talking to anyone, and his glass of champagne had run dry anyways, it wouldn’t be seen as unusual for him to go talk with his “future wife”.</p><p>“Lady Bones,” he greeted Sue, moving closer to link their arms together in a perfectly proper way as he whispered his next words to her, “what’s up? Your guard is up, who are we worried about?”</p><p>“Probably nothing,” she replied, equally as quiet, “I don’t like the way that Geoffrey Selwyn keeps going back to the bar for another firewhisky. He’s not known as a drinker, almost looks like he’s trying to get his nerve up for something.”</p><p>Harry didn’t find this thought overly concerning; after all, the man was one of the four that he’d duelled simultaneously at Sue’s manor, and hadn’t exactly left Harry with an impression that he was particularly dangerous.</p><p>“I’m not worried if he wants to try his luck at round two,” Harry voiced these thoughts.</p><p>“No, you’re probably right,” Sue muttered, “besides, he doesn’t seem like the type who’d act without friends backing him up.”</p><p>“That’s their lot in a nutshell,” Harry joked.</p><p>“Yeah…” Sue trailed off, “you never know, though.”</p><p>Harry didn’t find that her answer (to say nothing of her uncharacteristic hesitance) inspired much confidence, but even when he tried his best to find something to see as a threat, nothing jumped out at him.</p><p><em>Wouldn’t that be easier, </em>Harry thought, <em>if they just tried to pull wands on me. <strong>That</strong>, I could handle. </em></p><p>“You should do your best to enjoy the party,” Sue whispered, “after all, we’re trying to sell you as a idle young playboy, yeah?”</p><p>“I suppose so,” Harry agreed, not missing the fact that she was dismissing him, raising his voice for their – apparent – farewell, “good evening, Lady Bones. I shall see you soon?”</p><p>“Of course, Lord Potter-Black,” Susan’s smile was genuine, at least, “I plan on it.”</p><hr/><p>“Well, that was weird,” Harry reviewed, reclining in a chair with a firewhisky in hand.</p><p>“Was it?” Pansy quirked an eyebrow, “it seemed pretty much business as usual to me.”</p><p>“Did someone say something to you?” Daphne inquired.</p><p>“Not really,” Harry answered, “it’s probably nothing, but Susan was on edge about something, seemed to think that Selwyn was acting suspicious.”</p><p>“Not exactly breaking new ground there,” Pansy drawled, “the Selwyns are an old family, and quite a few of them have cropped up as Dark Wizards over the years.”</p><p>“Did she say what she was concerned about?” Daphne asked, “I mean, you’ve duelled him once already, do you think he’s out for revenge?”</p><p>“Hard to say,” Harry swirled his drink, “like I said, it’s probably nothing, I guess that she and I are a bit more sensitive to these sorts of things than we ought to be.”</p><p>Daphne and Pansy shared a look, but Harry didn’t bother to try and figure out what it could have meant.</p><p>“I think it’s understandable,” Daphne spoke, “if you’re a bit on edge too, Harry. We’re on our back foot right now, until we figure out how to respond to my father’s latest tactic, but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to devolve to violence.”</p><p>“It’s all social and political games,” Pansy agreed, “nothing to get your wand out over.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry hummed, “might be easier if it was, honestly.”</p><p>“How so?” Daphne wondered.</p><p>“Well, if this was actually a new war,” Harry muttered, “things would just be simpler, yeah? It’s easier to figure out who’s trying to kill you and how to get them first than it is to try and figure out how to solve the Wizengamot, honestly.”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Pansy fixed her gaze on him, “curses flying is <em>so </em>much better than proposing new legislation.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed.</p><p>“Um,” Daphne interjected, “that sounds like a bit of an over-reaction, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, what my father is doing is terrible, but it’s not quite <em>that</em>, you know?”</p><p>“Eh,” Harry shrugged, “I guess over-reactions aren’t out of character for me, are they?”</p><p>“You?” Pansy smirked, “of course not. I’ve never once seen you take the most dramatic route possible.”</p><p>“I guess it’s not something we should ignore entirely,” Daphne argued, “I don’t exactly have the experience you do, but if you think there’s a risk that they might try something more direct against you… it’s not impossible.”</p><p>“I don’t see it,” Pansy protested, “sure, they’re all wrapped up in the whole ‘Pureblood purity’ thing, even now, but they just don’t have the guts to try anything like that.”</p><p>“How would we know?” Daphne continued, “I’m quite willing to lend my expertise when I can, but you and I aren’t exactly experienced in fighting a war, Pans.”</p><p>“Mmh,” Harry grunted, “I guess that might be part of it. Sue and I were soldiers, yeah? Might be that we’re seeing signs of things where they don’t really exist.”</p><p>“Soldiers?” Pansy huffed in disbelief.</p><p>“Not the right word for it, really,” Harry furrowed his brow in thought, “actually, it’s kind of tricky to figure out what the best way to describe what we were. We weren’t exactly in an army, but, well, I suppose that’s not wrong, either?”</p><p>“Daph,” Pansy interrupted, “you remember the plan we talked about?”</p><p>“Mm?” Daphne hummed, and Harry was confused what they referred to.</p><p>“I think it’s time,” Pansy said.</p><p>“What’s this?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“You’ll see,” Pansy answered, before she stood from her seat, motioning for Daphne to join her.</p><p>Harry was left sitting in his lounge, still confused. He’d already felt like there was something that Susan wasn’t telling him earlier tonight, and now his girlfriends were being opaque about whatever <em>plan </em>they’d come up with that he’d been left out of.</p><p>He could hear the two talking softly upstairs, but too quietly for Harry to make out their conversation. He almost leapt out of his seat when he heard Daphne gasp, only to calm himself when her exclamation was followed by giggles from both of his girlfriends.</p><p>When Pansy called “Haaaarry, it’s time for bed” from upstairs, he started to get an inkling of what these plans might involve.</p><p>As Harry entered his bedroom, he was quickly ambushed in a <em>much </em>more enjoyable way than his earlier reminiscence about the war had started to dredge up. Pansy and Daphne were both nude already, and as his girlfriends seized him by the shirt and threw him down on their bed, Harry found it easy to let those unpleasant memories disappear from his thoughts.</p><p>“You’re over-dressed, Lord Potter-Black,” Pansy spoke huskily, “we should fix that, shouldn’t we?”</p><p>“Oh, I agree,” Daphne teased, as the pair joined him on the bed.</p><p>Harry appreciated their bodies pressed against him as they began to strip him; both Daphne’s tall, firm and graceful frame, and Pansy’s short, soft, and lithe build. <em>I’m a lucky bloke, </em>Harry thought, running his hands over their bare backs as his girlfriends quickly divested him of his shirt, before his attempt to lean up to kiss Daphne was interrupted by Pansy pushing him back down.</p><p>“Let us be in charge for now,” Pansy purred, and Harry wasn’t going to argue.</p><p>As his trousers joined his shirt (flung across the room haphazardly), Harry groaned when both of the women ran their hands over his groin, stroking his cock over his underwear before this article joined the rest, leaving him as nude as his girlfriends.</p><p>The women quickly repositioned themselves on the bed, so that they were both facing away from Harry, their legs beside his head as the duo leaned down to start kissing along his torso, on his inner thigh, and then both wrapped their lips around the shaft of his member at one.  </p><p>“Fuck,” Harry groaned his approval.</p><p>He reached up to grasp each of their arses with either hand, appreciating both Pansy’s curvy, flared hips and Daphne’s larger, sculpted rear. He drew in a tight breath when each of the two began to run their mouth along the sides of his cock, clenching their arse cheeks firmly in his grip.</p><p>
  <em>Hmm, what’s this?</em>
</p><p>A glimmer caught his eye when he squeezed Pansy’s arse, and when Harry dug his grip in tighter, pulling her open in front of him, he saw the cause of this glint: a jewelled butt-plug was nestled between her cheeks.</p><p>The sight made his cock throb even harder.</p><p>Harry was surprised when he glanced over at Daphne’s spectacular rear, spreading her open in the same way, <em>she </em>was similarly adorned. Both plugs were set with what looked like emeralds, and the realization that this was what the two women were planning made him exhale in awe.</p><p>“Surprise!” Daphne giggled, removing her mouth from his cock just long enough to wiggle her hips at him in demonstration.</p><p>“You’re in for a treat,” Pansy drawled, as she shuffled around to reposition herself at the foot of the bed, “we’ve decided that it’s time that you break in our girlfriend’s arse, hmm?”</p><p>“Fuck, yeah,” Harry groaned.</p><p>With his enthusiastic agreement, Daphne also rearranged herself, turning so that she laid on her back beside him, with her legs hanging off the end of the bed. Harry hurriedly rose to his knees, clambering off the bed to stand between her legs, Pansy kneeling beside him.</p><p>“I’ve been working with our sweet,” Pansy drawled, and leaned forward to – <em>Merlin </em>– press her lips against the jeweled sex toy in Daphne’s arse, “you’ll have to be patient, of course, but I think she’ll be ready for you now.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry was far too turned on to attempt to be eloquent.</p><p>“I’m yours, Harry,” Daphne breathed, “yours and Pansy’s. I want to give you something new, you know?”</p><p>“You don’t-“ Harry started to protest that she didn’t have to do this for him, but Pansy swatted his arse to silence him before he could get started.</p><p>“Lube yourself up,” Pansy commanded, as her hand rose between Daphne’s legs, gently toying at the plug buried in her arse.</p><p>Harry muttered a lubricating charm, stroking his length to spread the magical substance over himself. He sucked his breath between his teeth as Pansy removed the plug, revealing Daphne’s pink arsehole winking slightly open. Their girlfriend didn’t remain idle for long, as Pansy leaned forward to press her face between Daphne’s legs, wetly running her tongue around the blonde’s pink rim.</p><p>“<em>Lubricio Penetrata,</em>” Pansy murmured, the charm one that was now familiar to all three.</p><p>“I’m ready, Harry,” Daphne murmured, “fuck my arse, <em>please</em>.”</p><p>He stepped closer, and Pansy seized his cock, guiding it towards Daphne’s arsehole. All three of them moaned as Harry pushed himself in the slightest amount, the blunt head of his cock pressed against Daphne’s rear entrance.</p><p>“Do it,” Pansy ordered, and Harry thrust forward a bit more, Daphne’s tight ring opening around him.</p><p>“<em>Hnng</em>,” Daphne groaned, as the first fraction of his cock disappeared inside her arse.</p><p>“You okay?” Harry checked, stopping the motion of his hips.</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne agreed, “keep going.”</p><p>“I’ve gotta see this,” Pansy muttered, clambering on to the bed so that she knelt beside Daphne, her gaze locked between the blonde’s legs.</p><p>Harry obeyed Daphne’s wishes, and pushed forward cautiously, inch after inch of his cock slowly gliding inside of her arse until he had fully hilted himself within her. She was incredibly tight: Harry thought it was nearly overwhelming when Pansy asked to be buggered, but Daphne’s relative inexperience was a whole new level of sensation.</p><p>“Is that good?” Harry asked, as he kept himself locked in place.</p><p>“It’s a lot,” Daphne gasped, “but that’s not bad. Come on, Harry, <em>fuck me</em> already.”</p><p><em>She sounds like Pansy, </em>Harry chuckled internally, as he began to pull backward as slowly as he could.</p><p>Once again, each member of the trio made a satisfied noise as Harry properly thrust into Daphne’s arse for the first time, more slowly and cautiously than their usual pace, but in a way that was <em>debaucherous </em>enough to be stimulating on its own.</p><p>“You like that?” Pansy teased, as she swung her hips over Daphne’s, straddling the blonde, “you like when he fucks your arse?”</p><p>“Mmh!” Daphne moaned, and tensed around Harry as Pansy reached down to start playing with her pussy at the same time.</p><p>“You two are incredible,” Harry murmured, before he brought his hands down to spank Pansy’s arse (wiggling in front of him so enticingly as it was).</p><p>The three fell into a slow, careful rhythm: Harry luxuriated in how tight Daphne felt around his cock, Pansy muttered words of encouragement to their girlfriend at the same time as she stroked the blonde’s sex, and Daphne writhed underneath both of their attention.</p><p>“You’re doing so good,” Pansy muttered, and Harry felt her insert two of her fingers into Daphne, feeling the digits from Daphne’s other hole. Harry didn’t leave Pansy out, as he grasped the end of her butt-plug between his fingers, slowly pumping it back and forth in rhythm with his hips.</p><p>“Fuck!” Daphne cried, and Harry took this as encouragement to increase his pace slightly, sawing in and out of the blonde’s arse with intent.</p><p>“I knew you’d like it,” Pansy continued, “having both of us fuck you like this…”</p><p>Daphne shrieked, and she clenched tightly enough around Harry that he had to stop moving. Her legs flailed on either side, as the combination of Pansy’s fingers and Harry’s manhood brought her over the edge to a surprisingly rapid orgasm.</p><p>“Holy fuck,” Daphne breathed, “I need a minute, fuck. Wow.”</p><p>Harry slowly withdrew from her, appreciating the lewd sight of his cock popping free from her arse.</p><p>“I’m good to go,” Pansy muttered, looking back over her shoulder at Harry in challenge, “it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Is it?” Harry teased, pushing down on her toy, causing the brunette to hiss in pleasure.</p><p>“<em>Pleaase</em>?” Pansy whined, “fuck my arse too?”</p><p>
  <em>Well, since she’s asking so nicely…</em>
</p><p>Harry carefully pulled the toy free from Pansy, and before she had a chance to miss its absence, pulled her hips down roughly so that she collapsed on top of Daphne, then angled his hips to line up with <em>Pansy’s </em>arsehole in turn.</p><p>He was less careful about thrusting inside of his other girlfriend, as he knew that the blend of pain and pleasure that this particular form of sex caused was half of the appeal for her. Harry shoved half of his length inside of her without warning, groaning as her insides tensed around him.</p><p>“Fuck, yes!” Pansy voiced her agreement.</p><p>Harry set a vigorous pace from the beginning, thrusting hard enough that Pansy’s full arse cheeks rippled against his hips. When he felt his balls start to smack into the back of Daphne’s hand, he realized that their girlfriend was returning the favour from earlier, stimulating Pansy’s clit in time with his penetration.</p><p>“Fuck, Pans,” Harry grunted, “I’m getting close.”</p><p>“Do it!” Pansy ordered, “fucking cum in my arse!”</p><p>In sequence, Pansy collapsed forward even further, pulling Daphne’s face against hers as the two women began to kiss sloppily. Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to join in, leaning forward over the pair of them to press his mouth against the side of Daphne’s, so that all three of their tongues danced together messily as he started to <em>pound </em>Pansy’s arse.</p><p>Pansy’s entire body tensed under him, a plaintive whine escaping through her lips and the three-way kiss they engaged in, as Harry and Daphne brought her to climax. The sensation of her arse clenching tightly around him was enough to take Harry over the edge, and he groaned with satisfaction as he filled Pansy’s rear with his cum.</p><p>“Mmh,” Daphne murmured, “that was hot. I’m glad you convinced me, Pans.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Pansy rolled away from her place pinned between her partners, as Harry collapsed to the other side of Daphne, “you game to try again sometime?”</p><p>“Not tonight,” Daphne decided, “I <em>am </em>a bit sore, but it’s not bad. We can definitely try that again.”</p><p>“Looking forward to it,” Harry chuckled, “I’m surprised that, well, you two kept this as a surprise.”</p><p>“I thought it would be a good way to take both of your minds off things,” Pansy smirked, “and, well, I also wanted to watch you break our girl in, you know.”</p><p>“Matching butt-plugs?” Harry smirked back at her, “that’s such a <em>you </em>thing.”</p><p>“Well,” Daphne wrapped her arms around each of her partners, drawing them into an embrace on either side of her, “who knows. Maybe one day we’ll each have one with House colours, hmm?”</p><p>All three started to laugh at the sheer audacity of the idea, but Harry had to admit that the root concept (<em>maybe rings instead of butt-plugs, though</em>) sounded rather appealing to him.</p><p><em>I do want to see both of you in my House colours one day, </em>Harry realized, <em>I guess I’ll have to decide which of you gets which.</em></p><p>Of all the various challenges that came along with navigating Pureblood politics, this was one that Harry was quite happy to take on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Back to fundamentals ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p><p>This was a bit of a shallower chapter in terms of events that happened, but it's heavy with ~implications~ for future plot points</p><p>I hope that the move that Cyrus made was clear enough without getting bogged down in the bureaucratic side of Wizengamot scenes - I want to avoid getting <i>too</i> dry in the narration, so ideally this is a middle ground! I'd like to hear thoughts and speculation as to what this might entail, but I also want to know if this was too confusing! If necessary, I might include the text of the revised bill(s) as an addendum, the way that I did in (Revel)ations for the first draft of Cyrus's bill. </p><p>General thoughts and comments are also welcome!</p><p>Up next: A different perspective on some of the issues developing in the background</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Cortex</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Susan</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>A few days before the Ministry ball</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Susan sat in her office – her <em>office </em>– poring over the materials that she’d prepared for Robards one final time.</p><p>She still found it hard to believe, at times, that she was already the sort of person who had their own office, to go along with her fancy title of Deputy Department Head. Susan knew that her aunt would be proud of her, but Amelia Bones would have been equally insistent that Susan should pursue her own path in life, rather than trying to be the second edition of her.</p><p><em>Figure I’m doing a decent job of it, </em>Susan thought, <em>though I suppose that depends on how this goes. </em></p><p>She closed the manilla folder, and stood from her desk. Susan wouldn’t have said that she felt nervous, but she did feel a hint of something adjacent to that emotion, considering the topic matter that she and her boss were about to discuss.</p><p>“Ah, have a seat, Lady Bones,” Robards greeted her when she walked into his office, “close the door behind you, if you’d please.”</p><p>This wasn’t unexpected. The matters they had to discuss were of the “potentially world-shaking” variety, after all. Susan suspected that everything she’d found in her research was probably something that Robards already knew, but they’d wanted her to look into these different topics on her own, as a fresh set of eyes.</p><p>It felt like a test.</p><p>“So,” Robards started, “what are your findings?”</p><p>“Not a hell of a lot,” Susan answered, passing the folder she’d prepared to him, “in pretty much every track I followed, there’s just enough evidence to suggest <em>something’s </em>going on, but that’s about it.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Robards hummed, then fell into silence as he leafed through the reports. In the weeks they’d worked together, the newly-minted Head of the DMLE had mostly affirmed Susan’s initial impressions of him: efficient, competent, but more than a bit awkward.</p><p>“This makes sense,” he assessed, “you’ve done an admirable job assembling the known facts, but I concur, there’s factors that we clearly haven’t been able to account for.”</p><p>“Right,” Susan agreed, “like who Rosier was holding the Shrine of Sorrow for.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Robards nodded, “to say nothing of whoever was responsible for funding its procural in the first place.”</p><p>“Well,” Susan grumbled, “there’s a name that came up an awful lot, isn’t there?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” he made an expression which suggested he was thinking, but awfully resembled ‘frowning’, “we thoroughly investigated that link, and were unable to find anything particularly damning.”</p><p>“Penrose Parkinson,” Susan confirmed, “everything about him suggests that he was probably an ardent supporter of the Dark Lord, it sure seems likely that if a dark wizard with deep pockets were involved, it’d be him, and yet there’s no bloody paper trail conclusively tying him to <em>anything</em>.”</p><p>“Other than his business as a landlord,” Robards idly stirred his certainly-cold mug of coffee, “a pursuit which has certainly made him wealthy, but could also serve to disguise less-legitimate streams of income.”</p><p>“You’ve certainly alluded to it,” Susan licked her lips before continuing, “but to be up-front about this: what do you know about Harry Potter’s relationship?”</p><p>“I’m aware that he’s dating Pansy Parkinson,” Robards cracked a wry grin with that statement, for some reason, “as well as Daphne Greengrass.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan grumbled, “so…are you worried that dating Parkinson is a risk for him?”</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“Well.” Susan looked for the right words to express what she actually felt, “she’s, uh, fuckin’ unpleasant. Just as snide and arrogant as she was at Hogwarts. But for all that, I don’t think she’s a good enough actress to fake the affection I’ve seen her show, so if I had to take a stab at it, I don’t think she’s involved in whatever her father is up to.”</p><p>“A succinct assessment,” Robards chuckled, “if, perhaps, a bit unkind. But as far as an answer goes, we’re of the same opinion as you regarding any potential danger she might pose; our profile suggests a woman who’s prone to impulsivity and self-destruction, so it appears their relationship developed by happenstance, rather than for sinister purposes.”</p><p>“What a lucky guy,” Susan spoke sarcastically, “how <em>did </em>you find out about his relationship, anyways?”</p><p>“Harry himself told me he’d become <em>involved </em>with her,” Robards sipped his coffee, somehow not even wincing at its bitterness, “but Auror Savage was responsible for figuring out the details of what that meant.”</p><p>This was perhaps one of the last people that Susan would have guessed; she’d only met Savage a few times, but from the impression he’d left, she was surprised to hear that he could figure out any sort of social dynamic which wasn’t described in a Ministry handbook.</p><p>“Moving on,” Susan decided, “when it comes to the political sphere, there’s just a whole lot of the same old shite. Cyrus Greengrass seems dedicated to preserving the traditional power structures, and the various men who are flocking around him would make up a ‘who’s who’ of the usual suspects, but everything I’ve seen lately is almost painfully bureaucratic.”</p><p>“Quite,” Robards nodded again, “you’re uniquely placed to provide us insight into the ongoings at the Wizengamot, but the latest initiative seems more focused on preserving the rights of ‘nobility’ than it does creating a favourable environment for Dark Magic.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan agreed, “don’t get me wrong, Cyrus is an absolute prick, but he’s been remarkably hesitant to tie any of his bills to blood purity.”</p><p>“It is a somewhat unpopular opinion, these days,” Robards re-opened the folder, and skimmed one of the pages within, “from the way that his bill appears to be targeted, it almost seems like he has a personal vendetta against the Lord Potter-Black, more than it does that he wants to take revenge on <em>Harry Potter</em>.”</p><p>“Is it revenge that they want, you think?” Susan wondered about the motivations behind the suspected dark magic movement they were trying to smoke out, “you mentioned before that there’s some sort of prophecy involved, but I couldn’t find a fuckin’ hair of evidence for that.”</p><p>“For good reason,” Robards locked his gaze back to her, “the existence of Rabastan Lestrange’s cult is, perhaps, the most dangerous secret in our society.”</p><p>“Why?” Susan wondered, “I can kind of get why you don’t want Harry finding out, but surely you’d want to send in Aurors to stamp that out, yeah?”</p><p>“What do you know of the nature of Azkaban, Miss Bones?”</p><p>“Well, it’s a miserable place,” Susan answered, “but it’s no longer infested by Dementors, right? Since it’s the most secure prison we’ve got, it seems like the Ministry should have control over what happens inside.”</p><p>“If only,” Robards sighed, “Azkaban is not a ‘miserable<em>’ </em>place, only because that adjective fails to fully describe its true status. Azkaban is an <em>evil </em>place. It was founded by Dark Magic, and the subsequent centuries only brought it to lower depths.”</p><p>“Which means?”</p><p>“Are you aware of the concept of ‘Magic of the Land’?” Robards answered with another question.</p><p>Susan would happily admit that she wasn’t exactly the most gifted student; most of her success at Hogwarts came as a result of hard work rather than any natural talent she had for academics. This trait seemed to serve her well enough in politics or Ministry business, but it tended to leave her at a loss when it came to the higher mysteries of magic.   </p><p>As a result, the term sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she feared that she hadn’t paid close enough attention to whatever History of Magic lecture it had featured in.</p><p>“Uh,” she guessed, “something like ‘magic practiced in a specific place tends to reinforce itself’, or along those lines?”</p><p>“Close enough,” Robards shrugged, “because Azkaban is a place of Darkness, it warps the very nature of magic around itself. Within its walls, there is very little Light to be found.”</p><p>“So, we send dark wizards there <em>why</em>!?” Susan was flabbergasted.</p><p>“Because its nature <em>also </em>means that it serves as an extremely effective container for Dark Magic,” Robards answered, “while our foes might very well find themselves more capable within their prison, it is still a prison, and any attempts to escape are like to fail in a spectacular fashion.”</p><p>“That’s fucking grim,” Susan blurted.</p><p>“Indeed,” Robards continued, “this is the root of our reasoning for why this knowledge has to be guarded so carefully. The Unspeakables who have been made aware of Lestrange’s prophecy fear that allowing it to spread beyond Azkaban will serve to build its power. As it is now, we’re lucky that the worst that has escaped into the public are mere rumors of its existence, but even this is troubling.”</p><p>Susan truly hated the confusing, arcane, and outright <em>weird </em>sides of magic. It was so much simpler when spell-craft was focused on throwing fireballs or cutting hexes around, rather than musing about the “nature” of magic itself.</p><p><em>Azkaban is a concentration of Dark Magic, fucking brilliant, </em>she thought, <em>doubly bloody brilliant that we sent a bunch of Death Eaters there to stew in their favourite sort of magic. </em></p><p>“Wait,” she realized, “that’s it. That’s the trap.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“We’ve talked about making sure this prophecy doesn’t reach Harry,” Susan explained her reasoning, “because we don’t want him storming Azkaban, yeah? If it’s a place that serves to keep Dark Magic trapped by its inherent nature, then if Harry cracked it open like an egg, all that magic would come spilling out, right?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Robards leaned back in his chair, and steepled his fingers together, “this seems plausible to me. I’ll have to run it by the aforementioned Unspeakables, but it makes sense. It’s still possible, of course, that Harry himself is the target, rather than wider-reaching goals.”</p><p>“Targeting Harry <em>is </em>a wide-reaching goal,” Susan muttered, “he’s got the potential to be even more influential than Dumbledore was, for Merlin’s sake.”</p><p>“On that note,” Robards said, “I see that you’ve had no better luck than we have when it comes to deciphering Harry’s reputation among the Neo-Grindelwaldists, eh?”</p><p>“It feels bloody backwards,” Susan grumbled, “analyzing a bunch of nursery rhymes and fables for signs of how a fucking terrorist movement might be inspired by them.”</p><p>“There are often kernels of truth in even the most outlandish tales,” Robards hummed.</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan could agree with that much, “kernels buried in a mound of bullshit. You should’ve heard some of the rumours about Harry when we were Hogwarts students, for fuck’s sake, I was even dumb enough to spread stories about how he was ‘Slytherin’s heir’.”</p><p>“What do you suspect the truth behind the legends is, then?” Robards inquired, “the legends of the Deathly Hallows?”</p><p>“It’s pretty clear that some sort of powerful magical artefacts existed at some point,” Susan answered, “but the idea that Death itself created them? That’s ludicrous.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“You’re well aware of my family’s history,” Susan frowned, “the Bones family, well, we’ve produced quite a few necromancers back in the day. I’ve even gone into the depths of my family library, dug up the oldest books that survive, and all of them say the same thing: if there <em>is </em>a personification of fuckin’ Death itself, then it’s nothing to be bargained with, and certainly nothing that grants boons.”</p><p>“I suspect there’s very few who have ever had the capacity to seek true answers to these questions,” Robards mused.</p><p>“Now, as far as the actual Deathly Hallows themselves? Well, there really was a family of Peverells, and they were known as talented artificers. It’s not a stretch that a particularly gifted wand-maker might have been able to craft a wand of elder wood that would make its wielder better at combat magic, to the point that they might seem unbeatable.”</p><p>“Do you think that Harry possesses this wand?”</p><p>“No clue,” Susan shrugged, “I wasn’t close enough to his final duel with Voldemort to make out the details, but I know the wand he uses now is made of holly, not elder.”</p><p>“Well, it seems to serve as a symbol of power, if nothing else,” Robards hummed, “an item of magical strength that some of Grindelwald’s ilk might see as inherent proof of authority.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan admitted, “if they’re going off ‘might makes right’, then I’d be right shocked if there’s more than a handful of wizards out there with more magical power than Harry.”</p><p>Robards made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment, so Susan continued.</p><p>“The Elder Wand is the one that pops up most frequently,” she explained, “but there’s a bunch of other tales making reference to other Hallows. There’s always a set of three in total, but the specifics change. Sometimes there’s a ring that lets you walk in the realm of spirits, other times a crown that allows you to command the dead, or a chalice that can be used to brew a potion of immortality.”</p><p>“All of which sound fearsome,” Robards murmured.</p><p>“Right,” Susan agreed, in theory, “which means that these things would probably pop up in history books somewhere if they really existed. I’m of the opinion that the ‘Death Shroud’ is probably one of the real ones, but it’s more likely that someone managed to create a self-renewing invisibility cloak. It’s like how Excalibur was real, not just a legend, but the truth is that Merlin simply got his hands on a Goblin-wrought sword.”</p><p>“And the third?”</p><p>“Well, I’ve actually changed my mind on that one,” Susan admitted, “I thought that the ‘Resurrection Stone’ just sounded like a dark twist on the old Philosopher’s Stone legend, but since we talked about Azkaban… an artefact that allows its wielder to conjure specters of death sounds an awful lot like someone controlling Dementors, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Robards quirked an eyebrow, “it does often seem that the same event can inspire a host of different legends. Very astute observation, Miss Bones.”</p><p>“Cheers,” Susan answered, “so, then. How’d I do? Did I pass your test?”</p><p>“Ah, your candor is refreshing,” Robards chuckled, “honestly, if nothing else, I’m glad to have you here just so that someone will be willing to speak openly with me.”</p><p><em>Never had much of a problem with that, </em>Susan couldn’t help but grin.</p><p>“You’ve done quite well,” Robards answered, “especially since this is outside of your area of expertise. Rest assured, I won’t be pressing you to delve back into the deeper mysteries of legends any time soon.”</p><p>“Thank Merlin,” Susan muttered.</p><p>“As we discussed before, I think your talents are best put to use keeping a watch on your colleagues in the Wizengamot,” Robards continued, “your concerns about the Burke and Selwyn families have been noted, but I’d like to implore you to remain ever-vigilant for any other signs that someone might be building contacts on the continent.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan agreed, “I can do that.”</p>
<hr/><p><em>I’m really not cut out to be a fucking spy, </em>Susan thought.</p><p>The Ministry’s latest ball was something of an intelligence-gathering opportunity for her, but Susan was struggling to find the relevance in much of anything she’d overheard. Granted, these sorts of events were unofficially meant to be free of politics, but she understood quite well that Purebloods traded in insinuations and symbolism just as much as they engaged in obvious politicking.</p><p>Still, as much as she could tell, they were just as happy to gossip for the sake of hearing themselves talk:</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve heard that Martinus’ boy is up to make captain of his team. I suppose it’s good that he’s finding some success in that pass-time, such that it matters.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, dear Euphemia has been under the weather lately, such a shame. She runs herself dry, you know, caring for that urchin she took in, one of her nephew’s issue, I’ve heard.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The Weasleys have always been a queer sort, but their eldest… hardly even a true wizard any more, let alone a proper Pureblood. I fear for their House, to tell you the truth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, I agree, the Greengrass girl is an obvious match for Lord Potter-Black. I’d hoped that he might have considered a match to my daughter, of course, but, sadly, it seems his second line is already spoken for. There’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.”</em>
</p><p>The last one may have carried a bit more intent behind it, considering that she was close enough to overhear the oh-so-subtle dig at her and Harry’s “courtship”. Then again, overhearing various old Purebloods tut-tutting over her “improper” behaviour was hardly groundbreaking.</p><p>Susan glanced across the room, where Daphne – the aforementioned “Greengrass girl” – was chatting with a member of House Brown. <em>She’s much more fit for this task, </em>Susan thought with admiration, <em>as much as she hates it.</em></p><p>Daphne’s dislike of Pureblood society wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone who knew her well enough, which made it all the more impressive that she was willing to swallow a bitter pill and throw herself back into that world. The thought of pretending to be somebody she wasn’t sounded horrible to Susan, but she was a blunt woman, not exactly someone who could believably pull off acting like a meek “proper Pureblood woman”.</p><p>
  <em>There’s nothing “meek” about Daphne, that’s for sure.</em>
</p><p>There was a lot that Susan admired about the blonde woman: she was smart as hell, and the fact that she was a talented artist was <em>very </em>intriguing. Daphne’s fearsome reputation from back at Hogwarts was one that she came by honestly – and Susan certainly respected that kind of strength – but it had become clear that her occasional frostiness was just a shell covering an endearingly friendly and earnest (if a bit shy) personality.</p><p>
  <em>And, let’s be fair, the fact that’s she’s a tall, gorgeous, statuesque fuckin’ knockout sure doesn’t hurt.</em>
</p><p>Susan was starting to find that she was feeling some uncharacteristic uncertainty around the little conspiracy that Daphne, Harry and herself were engaged in.</p><p>She was quite happy to pretend that she and Harry were courting; considering that the man was one of her best friends, hanging out with him every once in a while was hardly an arduous price to pay for maintaining their ruse.</p><p>Pretending that she was actively involved in gauging Daphne’s suitability as a match for Harry, though? That certainly didn’t bloody well sit right with her.</p><p>While Susan hadn’t exactly reached out to Daphne in the first place with specific <em>intentions </em>in mind, it hadn’t taken her long to realize that she was sort of hoping that their first meeting as artist and client might have developed into something a bit more than that.</p><p>When Harry and Daphne had revealed their relationship – and the third member of it – Susan had been disappointed. Sure, she was happy for her friends and all, but there weren’t all that many women in the Wizarding world who were willing to publicly date another woman, let alone ones with the same degree of understanding of Susan’s obligations as Lady Bones, to say nothing of <em>unfairly attractive fucking artists.</em></p><p>Susan had always had a thing for creative types.</p><p>With all those kinds of vague “what ifs” in her mind, Susan almost felt like the way they were meant to act as potential future sister-wives to Harry (as Pureblood society would see it) was a bit too close to being <em>something</em>, while ultimately being nothing.</p><p>Off to Daphne’s side, she saw Geoffrey Selwyn – one of the Pureblood gits that Harry had humiliated at her mansion – scowl at the blonde’s back before storming off towards the bar, which immediately set off a flood of protective instincts in Susan’s mind.</p><p>Susan meandered through the crowd, moving to a position where she could keep her eyes on Daphne and Harry alike, with Selwyn at the center of her field of vision. She felt another pang of uncertainty at the fact that she hadn’t been able to share these security concerns with Harry: she could guess that saying <em>“turns out there’s no fewer than three separate evil wizard conspiracies centered around you, mate, isn’t that fucking brilliant?”</em> would probably inspire him to do exactly what they were hoping to avoid, to charge directly at said enemies.</p><p>Susan decided that even if she couldn’t reveal that secret yet, she could damn well make sure that she kept the two of them safe.</p><p>She struck up a conversation with Bertie Higgs – <em>a fellow appreciator of the arts, considering the gallery his family runs </em>– while keeping her attention focused on Selwyn, who seemed to be fuming over a firewhiskey.</p><p><em>Gonna keep my eyes on you, </em>Susan thought, <em>you’re not going to pull anything stupid while I’m here.</em></p>
<hr/><p>“Well, this is an entire load of bollocks,” Susan groused.</p><p>“It’s not entirely unexpected,” Hermione argued, a note-covered copy of the latest edition of Cyrus’s bills (<em>plural, now</em>) in front of her, “granted, this is certainly a significant change in some of the outcomes he proposed, but this is still something we can work with.”</p><p>The bushy-haired genius had already gone through the revised bills with Harry, Daphne, and Parkinson, but Susan wanted to dedicate an afternoon to her own breakdown of the contents rather than relying on second-hand reports from Harry or Daphne.</p><p><em>Harry’s a pretty clever bloke, </em>Susan thought, <em>but legal documents aren’t exactly his forte. Daphne, on the other hand, wouldn’t have been raised with the knowledge of how to be a Head of House, considering that her father no doubt intended to hand over House Greengrass to some Pureblood prat. </em></p><p>“It’s not exactly ‘two steps forward, one step back’ now, is it?” Susan complained, “more like ‘three steps directly backwards, a vague gesture in a slightly forward direction’.”</p><p>“You’re not wrong,” Hermione agreed, “though establishing the possibility of granting divorces <em>would </em>be a significant win for witches as a whole.”</p><p>“While allowing wizards to marry as many wives as they feel like,” Susan huffed, “fuckin’ typical, can’t help but be sexist on top of all their other prejudices.”</p><p>“I don’t disagree,” Hermione brought out another copy of the bill, this one even more heavily marked with her underlines and highlights, “but I’m afraid that it seems that there’s motivations at play beyond just being horrible to women. Read these sections again, and note the language used.”</p><p>Susan did so:</p><p>
  <em>Bigamy – defined as a Witch taking more than one Wizard as her husband concurrently – shall be expressly forbidden. This restriction will be held of paramount importance, and as such, will impact the above process by which a Divorce may be granted in the following ways:</em>
</p>
<ul>
<li><em>The proceedings of a Divorce must be fully finalized and the previous marriage completely terminated before a Witch shall be permitted to re-marry</em></li>
<li><em>If a Marriage (as defined under the Recognition of Magical Marriage Act) is initiated, and it is later discovered that the Witch is still considered to be legally married to a previous husband, this shall serve as valid grounds for the Wizard to obtain a Divorce</em></li>
<li><em>Upon obtaining a Divorce, a Witch shall forsake membership within her former husband’s House, and this membership shall pass to the Wizard’s second wife</em></li>
<li><em>The children that a Wizard has with his first wife shall take precedence in the lines of succession of his House over those that he has with his second wife</em></li>
</ul><p>Susan hated every sentence of it, in no small part because it was just so bloody-mindedly <em>tedious</em>.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s like we thought,” Susan reviewed, “clever little trick, referring to bigamy as specifically when a woman has more than one husband, which in turn implies that a man having more than one wife is acceptable.”</p><p>“That’s not all,” Hermione added, and reached over to tap one of the lines with her pen, “these two lines, about membership in a House and lines of succession, they’re another scheme hidden within the first one.”</p><p>Susan frowned, and reconsidered the parts that Hermione was emphasizing. The part about lines of succession made sense – <em>in a bloody awful Pureblood way </em>– since otherwise, a Lord with two wives would wind up creating a nightmarish tangle when it came to which of his children received which parts of his inheritance.</p><p>“It might not stand up to a proper legal challenge,” Hermione continued, “not that the Wizengamot has many procedures available for that, but I believe that Cyrus has worded these sections this way in order to intentionally open a loophole.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“As the bill makes it clear that a second wife is not a member of her husband’s House unless the first wife divorces the husband,” Hermione answered, “this implies that a second wife would retain membership in her own house. Since so many Pureblood families have found themselves with female heirs in our generation, they’ve crafted a means of retaining their ancestral seats in the Wizengamot.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Susan swore, “that’s actually bloody devious.”</p><p>She pondered the implications. One of the various difficulties she faced as the Lady of House Bones was that uncertain future where she’d have to find a man willing to forsake his own House to ensure that her children would be born with the name Bones (<em>to say nothing about arranging a sham marriage in the first place, </em>she thought unhappily), but this could actually open new possibilities for her, as well.</p><p>Of course, she assumed that nothing would be that easy, and that Cyrus was certainly going to try and weasel in some part of his third bill to ensure that Pureblood fathers retained an iron grip over the futures of their Heiress daughters.</p><p>“He’s going to have another trap to spring in the ‘duties and obligations of Heads of House’ bill, isn’t he?” Susan voiced her concerns.</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Hermione agreed, “even in its first edition, it’s not hard to imagine a scenario where they use the ‘Duty of Propriety’ clause to force different Ladies to marry specific men. But – and this is a conditional ‘but’ – if we can manage to prevent the third part from passing, we might be able to subvert the entire divorce bill into becoming something unambiguously positive.”</p><p>“So… you think we should go along with passing this part, then?” Susan hadn’t really expected this strategy, but she could see some of its merits, she supposed.</p><p>“I think that we should be judicious about the parts we push back against,” Hermione explained, “but, ultimately, I believe that allowing divorce is a bigger win than the compromises we’d make elsewhere. I’m not completely comfortable with the concept of officially legalizing polygyny, but, well, I’d be an awful friend if I tried to convince Harry to make his own future marriages illegal.”</p><p>“Right, yeah,” Susan grumbled with a hint of bitterness, “I guess it does work out for Lord Potter-Black, since he’s got two Houses, two girlfriends, all neat and tidy, that.”</p><p>“We are quite fortunate that Harry can bring the votes of two Houses to bear,” Hermione nodded, either missing or choosing to ignore Susan’s tone, “but on that note, we still have a secret weapon that Cyrus hasn’t realized yet.”</p><p>“Oh?” Susan was curious.</p><p>“We’ve got one of the most notorious noble Heiresses in our corner,” Hermione hummed in thought, “with any luck, Pansy will be able to subvert some of the traditionalist faction into opposing the Heads of House bill out of their own self-interest.”</p><p>“Right, yeah, I’m sure that bloody Parkinson is going to be the key to preventing the Purebloods from crawling even further up their own arses,” Susan snorted.  </p><p>“She’s not that bad, you know,” Hermione frowned, “trust me, her and I <em>definitely </em>didn’t get along at Hogwarts either, but Pansy has grown a lot since then.”</p><p>“Eh,” Susan shrugged, “don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that she’s on our side rather than against us – a true fucking Slytherin, that one – but even if I put the past aside, I wouldn’t ever like her.”</p><p><em>She managed to somehow scheme her way into dating Harry and Daphne, after all, </em>Susan considered, <em>that must have been a fucking feat and a half to get them to overlook her... everything.</em></p><p>
  <em>Fuck, who am I kidding, she probably just got her tits out any time she needed to make up for being awful. </em>
</p><p>“No?” Hermione a flat look on Susan, “why do you think that?”</p><p>“She’s got a bloody mouth on her,” Susan muttered, “always has something clever to add, even if nobody wants to hear it.”</p><p>“She certainly isn’t shy, I’ll agree with that much,” Hermione made another noise of consideration, “but I honestly think you’d be surprised if you gave her a chance, I’ll admit that I was.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure it’s just great spending time with someone who constantly pushes buttons to get a rise out of people,” Susan rolled her eyes, “sounds utterly fucking ideal.”</p><p>“I do seem to have made a habit out of it,” Hermione replied, completely deadpan.</p><p>“If it wasn’t for Harry, there’s no way you’d ever bother putting up with that shite,” Susan argued.</p><p>“Oh?” Hermione glanced over Susan’s shoulder, “I don’t see him around?”</p><p>“What do you- oh, fuck off,” Susan burst out laughing, as she realized what Hermione meant, “I’m nothing like bloody Parkinson.”</p><p>“Outspoken, unashamed, and blunt to the point of being scandalous?” Hermione smirked, “I can’t imagine who I might be describing.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Susan realized that maybe there was a <em>bit </em>of merit to the comparison, at least when it came to their conversation habits, “she’s a bad influence on you, apparently, that was right bloody evil of you.”</p><p>As ridiculous as the idea that she and Pansy fucking Parkinson shared any deep common ground sounded, Susan was quite happy for the momentary break from heavier topics. She let herself temporarily forget some of her concerns, as she and Hermione continued to exchange light-hearted insults and insinuations with each other, laughing when their barbs got particularly absurd.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Time for another glimpse into what's going on with the fourth member of the "down with Cyrus Greengrass" conspiracy!</p><p>This chapter was another one that served to put down a whoooole bunch of groundwork, and I'm hoping that the bill text helped to clarify a bit of what was implied last chapter. From this point, there's going to be more actions and reactions rather than planning sessions, but I hope this was still entertaining on its own! </p><p>I'm curious to know what you readers think about the hints towards future events - and references to past foreshadowing - scattered through this chapter ;)</p><p>Looking forward to seeing your comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Digit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>She walked into the tea shop on Diagon Alley, thankful that the pouring rain outside provided a convenient excuse for wearing a hooded jacket and thick scarf wrapped around her head. While Daphne may not have been in disguise, per se, she still felt more comfortable with her features obscured a bit, given that she’d recently become an awfully public figure.</p><p>Daphne ordered a tea, grateful for the way its warmth already helped to chase the chill out of her fingertips, before making her way through the shop to find Hermione’s table. Their meeting today wasn’t – <em>thank Merlin for that </em>– one of the strategy sessions for their political plots, just two friends grabbing a tea.</p><p>“Afternoon!” Hermione greeted her as Daphne pulled up a chair, the other witch pausing to cast a quick privacy charm, “I’ve got a few books that I think might be helpful for what you’ve been looking into. Here,” Hermione turned to pull said books from her bag, plopping three separate tomes onto the table.</p><p>“Brilliant, thank you!” Daphne was actually excited to read these texts, given her lingering academic curiosity about some of the possibilities that she’d recently been made aware of.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Hermione leaned forward intently, “I should warn you, ‘The Manie Manifestations of Magick’ is more than a little dated, but it’s a fairly reliable source for its time, while ‘Permutations of the Universal Magical Field’ is so close to the cutting-edge that it makes some <em>extremely </em>contentious claims. Geraint Ollivander’s ‘Spellcraft and Ritual’ is pretty close to a definitive text, but as you might imagine, it’s fairly focused on how different practises intersect with wandlore.”</p><p>“You’ve actually read all three of these?” Daphne was surprised, she’d merely raised the topics of her curiosity with Hermione, and hadn’t expected the bushy-haired woman to have more than a passing familiarity with some of the concepts, let alone <em>references </em>to provide.</p><p>“Well, of course,” Hermione, in turn, seemed surprised by the suggestion that she wouldn’t have, “I had to make sure that I was giving you something that would actually be helpful!”</p><p>“I’m grateful,” Daphne smiled softly, “this should be a big help, I’m awfully out of my depth, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“To be fair, you’re dealing with some rather complex topics,” Hermione mused, “closer to philosophy than anything resembling science. Take, for example, the concept of ‘Magic of the Land’ that we’ve talked about: certainly, the theory has merit, but it’s hardly sufficient to explain how all the different regional variations of magical practice actually developed, let alone why individuals can continue to use their own traditions in countries without clear equivalents.”</p><p>“Mysteries beget mysteries,” Daphne sighed, quoting a divination textbook, “and there’s a few too many little oddities cropping up, of late, for me to ignore.”</p><p>“It’s rather fascinating,” Hermione spoke, “that you seem to be practicing a fairly unique form of magic with your paintings. The term ‘<em>eikomancy</em>’ itself is a rare one, I almost wonder if the proliferation of writing systems wound up supplanting an older practice.”</p><p>“If nothing else, it’s been illuminating discovering just how much I don’t know,” Daphne agreed, “for how much of my childhood was devoted to learning about traditions and history, it sure seems that there were substantial gaps in my education.”</p><p>“I imagine that it’s quite impossible for anyone to learn <em>everything </em>there is to know about magic,” Hermione reassured her, “I’d consider myself somewhat accomplished in magical study, all things considered, but, for example, the entire field of divination is one I’m largely unfamiliar with.”</p><p><em>“Somewhat accomplished,” </em>Daphne thought, <em>that’s selling yourself more than a little bit short, Hermione. </em></p><p>The women had been informal “rivals” back at Hogwarts, but their conflict had been limited entirely to competing over who laid claim to the top marks in the classes they shared. At the time, Hermione had seemed nearly unbeatable, but now, Daphne suspected that the rare victories she’d claimed came during times when her foe had been busy helping Harry with some utter madness that he was mixed up in.</p><p>“When it comes to rare forms of magical practice,” Hermione continued, “I’d recommend that I put you in touch with my friend Padma – Padma Patil – since that’s her primary research interest, she’d be more knowledgeable than I am.”</p><p>“Oh, uh,” Daphne nearly blushed as some particularly non-academic memories came to mind, “she was actually the one to put me on this path, as it turns out. She attended the gallery opening my paintings were shown at, and tracked me down to explain that I was actually creating something like primitive charms with my art.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to write you,” Hermione hummed, “I could actually see the two of you getting along quite well, now that I think of it.”</p><p><em>Another understatement, </em>Daphne sipped her tea as she thought, <em>but we’ll be keeping the truth of that implication under wraps, for now.</em></p><p>“I’m not particularly a fan of divination either,” Daphne changed the subject, “it’s always unsettled me, the idea that the future might already be decided for us, that my own choices might not matter.”</p><p>“As far as I see it,” Hermione nodded to herself, “I think that it’s pretty unlikely that <em>destiny </em>is real, or anything so strictly defined as that. I’m of the opinion that, while causality may be a bit more flexible than Muggle scientists would see it, we still have free will.”</p><p><em>Like how Padma put it with “doors being opened”, </em>Daphne mused.</p><p>“Some parts of ‘<em>Permutations</em>’ touch on this idea, actually, but those sections get rather obscure even for theoretical magic,” Hermione continued, “but, even though I can’t say for sure, I will say that I’m rather hopeful that prophecy isn’t playing any sort of role in the phenomena you’re curious about.”</p><p>“What, that my boyfriend might wind up being the next Merlin?” Daphne grumbled.</p><p>“Exactly,” Hermione snorted a laugh, “Harry would be the first to tell you that prophecy is a load of rubbish, I think. As much as I love the man, I truly can’t picture him winding up as someone as influential as Merlin, for that matter.”</p><p>“He’s mentioned a couple times that he’s not a fan of divination,” Daphne shrugged, “we haven’t exactly delved into the specifics involved, but, well, I know enough to say that it’s not exactly common for people to have prophecies <em>about </em>them.”</p><p>“Harry has some secrets that I don’t even know,” Hermione spoke a bit more seriously, “but to the extent of my knowledge, I rather suspect that any grand destiny he had was fulfilled when Voldemort was defeated.”</p><p>“Do you know when his Patronus changed?” Daphne wondered.</p><p>“When his what?” Hermione looked at her in surprise.</p><p>“Oh, uh, yeah,” Daphne muttered, “it was fairly well-established that his Patronus Charm produced a stag, but he wound up casting one at the Winter Solstice Gala a few months back, and now it seems that he’s got a <em>dragon </em>Patronus.”</p><p>“I didn’t know that!” Hermione seemed surprised, “I knew that a Patronus can sometimes change after marriage, or after a particularly impactful ‘rebirth’ affecting someone’s inner identity, but, hmm…” she trailed off, and sipped her tea during the pause, “I can see why that might raise your curiosity, but as far as I see it, Harry’s pretty much the same as he’s ever been.”</p><p>“I wonder if our relationship might play a role?” Daphne speculated, “I don’t mean to oversell my own importance, but it’s a known phenomenon in Pureblood circles that intimate relationships can lead to a change in someone’s magic, and you have to admit, it seems awfully convenient that ‘Lord Potter-Black’ wound up dating two women shortly before he reassumed that status.”</p><p>“I’m afraid that’s <em>way </em>outside of my areas of expertise,” Hermione tapped her fingers against a notebook, before opening it and starting to write within, “while, again, I don’t want to overstate the role that any kind of predestination might play, it may well be that the effects of the bond you’ve formed could ripple forwards <em>and </em>backwards.”</p><p>“It’s not a Soul Bond,” Daphne clarified, “those require some pretty specific rituals to forge, they’ve even been out of favour for Pureblood marriages for centuries by now.”</p><p>“No, of course not,” Hermione agreed, “but there’s many more kinds of bonds than that, you know. Harry, Ron and myself will always share a close connection with each other, for example, but so do all former Gryffindors, or members of the D.A., and so on,” she shrugged, “I think it’s both more common and less impactful than you might be picturing.”</p><p>“I still can’t ignore,” Daphne argued, “the number of times I’ve heard someone mention ‘Covens’ in the past few months, and here I am, in a three-person relationship. That would qualify as one, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “or maybe that whole thing is simply how older cultures chose to explain polyamorous relationships. Certainly, a triad relationship might not be conventional, but I hardly think that you three are risking causing changes to the fabric of Magic itself by dating each other. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite happy for all three of you, but again, I’d caution against mistaking superstition for significance.”</p><p>“How so?” Daphne wondered.</p><p>“How’s your grasp of arithmancy?” Hermione replied with a question.</p><p>“So-so,” Daphne admitted, “I focused on Runes after my O.W.L.s, but I remember enough of the basics. Magic tends to group around certain numbers, forming patterns which can amplify or interfere with the effects of rituals, depending.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Hermione stated, “the number three is definitely a magically-significant number, one that crops up in a variety of different phenomena. With that in mind, perhaps it is possible that being in a three-person relationship can cause more dramatic effects than conventionally monogamous relationships would.”</p><p>“But,” Hermione continued, “the number two is also magically-significant. As are four, five, six, seven, and so on. To tell the truth of it, I suspect that Wizardkind is just as prone to finding patterns in unrelated events as Muggles are, and that the ‘magical significance’ of different numbers arises post-hoc from the presumption that they’re important.”</p><p>“Muggles do the same thing?” Daphne was certainly more well-versed in Muggle culture than a majority of witches were, but nowhere near as much as someone who’d been born in that world.</p><p>“Oh, definitely,” Hermione nodded, “even in the non-magical world, seven is thought to be a lucky number, thirteen an unlucky one, et cetera. It’s even possible that these superstitions spilled over into Wizarding culture, for all we know.”</p><p>“A lot to consider,” Daphne hummed, “I appreciate the chance to talk about this, thank you. It’s not the easiest topic to make sense of.”</p><p>“If you don’t mind my asking,” Hermione spoke, “why is it that you’re so concerned about arcane phenomena? Without getting into politics, it sure seems as if entirely ordinary matters are more pressing, right now.”</p><p>“I suppose it’s a vague feeling,” Daphne answered, “if it turns out that there <em>is </em>any, well, magical bullshit involved in Harry’s future, I’d feel much more secure preparing myself ahead of time, rather than trying to figure it out as I go.”</p><p>“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Hermione smiled, “I’d say that Harry’s greatest talent might well be his ability to fly by the seat of his pants. I don’t think that you have much to worry about, from where I sit.”</p><p>“I hope you’re right.”</p><p>“You know,” Hermione added, “it’s really too bad that we weren’t friends when we were students. I’ve enjoyed this quite a lot, it’s rare for me to find someone who shares my interests in the more academic side of magic.”</p><p><em>We wouldn’t have got along back then, </em>Daphne thought, <em>not when I was weaponizing my arrogance to keep myself safe.</em></p><p>“I’m sure I’ll have many more questions once I’ve made it through these,” Daphne tapped the books on the table, “which, thank you again for sharing with me.”</p><p>“My pleasure!” Hermione’s smile grew wider, “I look forward to hearing your findings!”</p>
<hr/><p>True to Hermione’s warning, the texts that she’d loaned to Daphne proved to be outright baffling at times.</p><p>Daphne was curled up against Harry’s side on the couch, working her way through <em>‘The Manie Manifestations of Magick’ </em>while he similarly pored over a history of marriages in the magical world.</p><p>It was nice. Daphne knew that she and Harry tended to default to comfortably spending time around each other, rather than engaging in shared activities, but with how uncertain so much had been of late, she deeply appreciated the chance for a quiet, peaceful afternoon.</p><p>A preference which was pointedly <em>not </em>shared by the third member of their trio.</p><p>“I’m<em> boooored</em>,” Pansy whined, twisted around almost upside-down in an armchair, “let’s go do something, yeah?”</p><p>“What’ve you got in mind?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Well, I want to go flying,” Pansy answered, “but I’m not going up in all this rain, so that’s out.”</p><p>“I’ve played matches in worse weather than this,” Harry teased, “it builds character, or something.”</p><p>“I’ve plenty enough character already,” Pansy pouted, “Daph, c’mon, you want to go shopping? Get something new to wear?”</p><p>“You make most of my clothes now,” Daphne replied, “who could measure up to those standards?”</p><p>“Heh, damn right,” Pansy smirked, as she spun herself around to a mostly-upright position, “okay, scratch that. Let’s go blow off some steam, practice our combat magic? Don’t even have to leave the house!”</p><p>“But,” Daphne protested, “I’m reading.”</p><p>“As much as I enjoy looking at you,” Pansy argued, “reading isn’t exactly a thrill to spectate.”</p><p>“I’m pretty knackered right now,” Harry interjected, “but if you wanted to practice a few hexes or something, I could watch, give you some tips?”</p><p>“No, it’s fine,” Pansy sulked, “I haven’t been as busy lately as you two have been, I suppose I’m just a bit restless.”</p><p>“I thought you were busy with Fleur’s latest wardrobe?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Eh,” Pansy shrugged dramatically, “it’s coming along, but that’s my job, yeah? I’m not exactly falling asleep dreaming of it every night.”</p><p><em>Right, </em>Daphne rolled her eyes, <em>I’m sure that using Fleur Delacour as your personal model is entirely monotonous for you.</em></p><p>She folded her bookmark into the tome, and set it aside on a table.</p><p>“It’s been a while since we’ve watched a film together,” Daphne suggested, “maybe something a bit on the lighter side of things?”</p><p>“There’s an idea!” Pansy stood from the armchair, and crossed the room to throw herself dramatically across both Harry and Daphne’s laps, “got anything in mind that fits the bill, Potter?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Harry answered, putting his own reading to the side, “either of you ever seen Star Wars?”</p><p>“I can’t say I have,” Daphne admitted.</p><p>“Don’t think so,” Pansy said.</p><p>“Oh, brilliant,” Harry grinned, “it’s a classic!”</p>
<hr/><p>“Right, so,” Pansy spoke, “we just watched a movie about you, then?”</p><p>“What?” Harry seemed befuddled, “how so?”</p><p>“Naïve boy gets a magical stick,” Pansy drawled, “learns how to use mysterious powers, winds up battling a dark villain and saving everyone? You’re literally Luke Skywalker!”</p><p>“Now that you say it,” Daphne added, “the comparisons <em>are </em>rather numerous… would that mean that Obi-Wan represents Dumbledore?”</p><p>“And you’ve even got a veritable princess in your life,” Pansy teased, “Daphne is clearly Leia, right?”</p><p>“If you’re saying I’m Luke,” Harry replied with his own teasing tone, “then she’d better not be Leia!”</p><p>“Why’s that?” Daphne asked.</p><p>“You’ll find out in the third movie,” Harry smirked, “wait, who do you think Pans is?”</p><p>“That’s just as obvious,” Daphne fixed her girlfriend with a steady gaze, “awfully competent, but constantly demands attention? She’s R2-D2!”</p><p>“How <em>dare </em>you,” Pansy huffed.</p><p>“You<em> are</em> the shortest one of us,” Harry agreed with Daphne, before he yelped as Pansy tried to pinch him in retaliation.</p><p>“Obviously,” Pansy complained, “I’d be the badass smuggler with questionable morals, you dolts.”</p><p>“Who’s your Chewbacca, then?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“Maybe if you were significantly taller,” Pansy stuck her tongue out, “you’re certainly eloquent enough for the part.”</p><p>“That implies even more uncomfortable things than if I were Luke, and Daph was Leia,” Harry chuckled.</p><p>“Hey, no judgment,” Pansy grinned, “it must get awfully lonely in space, who’s to say…”</p><p>“Perhaps you two are both the droids,” Daphne interjected, “with how you bicker constantly, hmm?”</p><p>“This is how you repay me after I gave you the second-coolest character?” Pansy clasped her hands to her chest in mock offense, “truly, the trials I suffer are unbearable.”</p><p>“Are you already planning your next Halloween costume?” Harry asked Pansy, “is that what the character comparisons are about?”</p><p>“Ooh, there’s an idea,” Pansy trailed off.</p><p>“You know,” Daphne realized, “it’s a ways off, which means, well, we might actually be able to go public by the time the next Halloween party comes around.”</p><p>“Fuck, I hope so,” Pansy spoke, “don’t get me wrong, I’m not whining about this for real, but <em>Morgana </em>am I ever looking forward to when I can actually go on real dates with the two of you.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “sorry that you’re left out of the public side of things for now, Pans.”</p><p>“No, no,” Pansy waved her hand in the air dismissively, “like I said, I understand why that’s how it has to be.”</p><p>“I’m looking forward to being able to take you out, too,” Daphne brushed her fingers against her girlfriend’s shoulder.</p><p>“Even more than that,” Pansy’s eyes had a glint of excitement, “this means that we could go as a trio’s costume!”</p><p>“I think Star Wars might honestly be too obscure a reference except for Muggleborn people,” Harry hummed, “what else are you thinking?”</p><p>“Fuck it, go <em>real </em>magical,” Pansy answered, “literally Merlin, Morgana, and Maeve!”</p><p>“You really, truly don’t think the implications through,” Daphne laughed, “those costumes would mean that you and I would be dressed as mother and daughter, Pans.”</p><p><em>Plus, I don’t think Harry really wants to lend any further credence to </em>that <em>particular comparison.</em></p><p>“Well, I’ll take it back to the drawing board,” Pansy huffed, “you two are no fun at all, you know.”</p><p>She shrieked when Harry took the opportunity to pay her back for earlier, pinching Pansy’s arse without warning.</p><p>Daphne, in turn, chose to gang up on their girlfriend, pinning her arms down to stop her attempted counter-attack, though this meant that she drew close enough for Pansy to lean over and nip her earlobe.</p><p>The three quickly fell into a tangle of limbs on the couch as they playfully wrestled with each other, and for a while, Daphne forgot about her various worries.</p>
<hr/><hr/><p>
  <strong>SIX</strong>
</p><p>A “ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ” ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴏғᴛ ᴀssᴏᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ, ʜᴀʀᴍᴏɴʏ. As ᴀ ʜᴇxᴀɢᴏɴ, ᴀ ʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ. As ᴛᴡᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀ-ʟᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʀɪᴀɴɢʟᴇs, ᴀ sʜɪᴇʟᴅ. Tᴏ sᴏᴍᴇ, ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏɴᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ Rᴇᴠᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs.</p>
<hr/><hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are in motion.</p><p>I've decided to go with more frequent, shorter chapters for the next little bit of the story, so hopefully that's a choice that works out for everyone! I've also set a chapter total for this story - it's not precisely a HARD limit, but when I decided to go with the aforementioned chapter lengths, I found an awfully convenient number resulting from the different plot events upcoming. </p><p>While this chapter is honestly mostly fluff, particularly eagle-eyed readers might be able to pick up on some ~implications~ in the first section, and tiny bits of foreshadowing throughout.</p><p>Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lingua (Pansy/Harry)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pansy attends a party</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>“I suppose,” she spoke, swirling her martini, “that there may be some merit behind the idea of having safeguards in place to prevent any particularly unsavoury arrangements from coming to pass,” Pansy sipped her drink, “but I must admit, I find it distasteful to imagine such sensitive negotiations becoming a matter of the courts.”</p><p>The party she was attending – a private event at Frame and Stroke, hosted by its proprietor, Julian Higgs – was not a political event, of course, but certain topics had a way of percolating to the top of a conversation when one put this many rich, status-obsessed people in a room together.</p><p>While most of the attendees were not the Lords or Ladies of their houses, nearly all of the guests came from families with ancestral seats at the Wizengamot, and a significant proportion of these houses were relative newcomers to this status.</p><p><em>Most of them wound up basically buying their way into a seat, </em>Pansy mused, <em>it makes sense that they’d jump at the opportunity to attend an exclusive social at a trendy art gallery.</em></p><p>“Surely it would be a simple formality,” Pansy’s current target – Margaret Blishwick, a member of one of these recently-elevated Houses – argued, “a matter of preventing a wealthy but, <em>humm, </em>poorly-bred sort of man from buying his way into a title, no?”</p><p>“Oh, I would not wish such a fate on any noble lady,” Pansy answered airily, “but it is the responsibility of each House to safeguard their own business. It seems so very uncouth to make discussions of dowry and marriage contract into a <em>public </em>matter, putting our traditions into the hands of the Wizengamot…”</p><p>Pansy’s role in the ongoing efforts to sabotage Cyrus Greengrass was not, all things considered, a difficult one for her to play. She was basically responsible for milling about parties like these, making vaguely critical noises about the parts of Cyrus’s bill which seemed, on the surface, like progressive moves towards weakening traditional Pureblood society.</p><p>Of course, as far as Pansy understood, these sections would <em>actually </em>serve to wrap a stranglehold around the necks of any upstart houses attempting to dislodge the traditional families, but it would be awfully self-defeating to admit that the Traditionalist faction seemed quite happy to wound themselves in order to cripple the reformists.</p><p>“Indeed,” a smoky voice spoke from behind Pansy, “discretion is the better part of valour, is it not?”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Adrienne Zabini would be in attendance that night, but Pansy had been sincerely hoping to avoid repeating the frightening run-in she’d had with Blaise’s mother at the Winter Solstice Gala. <em>Forever, ideally. </em></p><p>“That’s a lovely dress, Heiress Parkinson,” Adrienne spoke, as Mrs. Blishwick had the common sense to scuttle away, “walk with me, I might very well have a mind to commission one of your pieces for myself.”</p><p>Pansy fell in beside Lady Zabini, their arms halfway linked together, crossed over each other’s wrists in the proper Pureblood way.</p><p>“I’m afraid,” Adrienne drawled, quietly enough that only Pansy could hear her, “it seems that I have to come calling for your assistance once again.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Pansy didn’t let her nerves show.</p><p>The last time that the “black widow” had ambushed her, it had been part of a demand on Adrienne’s part to try and interfere in Blaise’s relationship with Michel. Pansy had thought that problem solved, when she’d revealed that Michel was actually a frighteningly competent schemer, certainly not a brainless pretty-boy (as Lady Zabini had believed).</p><p>“It seems that things are shifting more rapidly than I’d anticipated,” Adrienne continued, “your plans are somewhat subtly disguised, I’ll admit, but for anyone who knows what to look for, why, you might well be wearing your allegiance on your sleeve.”</p><p>“Oh?” Pansy swallowed the instinct to insult her captor.</p><p>“The Greengrass girl is wearing one of your designs, I believe,” Adrienne inclined her head towards Daphne, who was milling around at the other side of the party, wearing a powder-blue dress that was, in fact, one of Pansy’s designs, “Fleur Delacour, of course, has made quite a public showing of the fact that you’re her personal seamstress, and, why, Blaise’s little <em>friend </em>even works at your shop.”</p><p>“It’s hardly strange,” Pansy huffed, “that these social circles blend together.”</p><p>“Surely a coincidence,” Adrienne continued, “that the Lord Potter-Black just so happens to start pursuing Daphne Greengrass as soon as Cyrus proposed measures which might limit his powers. That you’re surrounded by members of a foreign Wizarding family, as you suddenly start reappearing in public once again, hinting at your opposition to Lord Greengrass’s bills. A fruitless endeavor, all things considered, but I can see why you might chafe at such limitations.”</p><p>“What do you want?” Pansy defaulted to her characteristic bluntness, “I thought that we already had this conversation.”</p><p><em>I’m pretty sure that I’m fucked if I try to trick or manipulate her, </em>Pansy thought, <em>might as well see if I can get out of this without leaking anything.</em></p><p>“I took your advice,” Adrienne admitted, “I reassessed young Michel, keeping in mind his reputation that you’d helpfully enlightened me about. What I found has only served to disappoint me even further, so now I need to act more drastically to correct Blaise’s mistakes.”</p><p>“<em>How?” </em>Pansy muttered. Adrienne was far too ruthlessly calculating to actually, genuinely hold to any Pureblood prejudices, so the reasoning behind her continued prickliness surrounding Blaise’s relationship eluded Pansy.</p><p>“You were correct enough,” the older witch murmured, “that the boy has a talent for politicking. Certainly, the fact he’s managed to obscure his capability, such that it is, is a credit to him. I might even be willing to admit that Blaise and him might have the makings of a formidable pair.”</p><p>Adrienne started to pull Pansy through the party, away from any potentially-prying ears.</p><p>“The fact that they are <em>both </em>content to squander their talents, sitting back and accomplishing nothing but idle pursuits is, well, rather unforgiveable,” Lady Zabini spat.  </p><p><em>That’s exactly what you do with your life, </em>Pansy thought (she wouldn’t dare give voice to that insult), <em>though I suppose that you had to do an awful lot to get to this point. </em></p><p>“What are you even talking about?” Pansy hissed, at a loss for how to square away this apparent hypocrisy.</p><p>“If you haven’t noticed that the balance has shifted,” Adrienne <em>tsk</em>ed as she spoke, “then you’re, sadly, less capable than I’d thought. Think, girl. Shortly after it’s made public that Potter-Black is courting Bones and pursuing Daphne Greengrass, Cyrus suddenly changes his mind and starts promoting polygamy, where he’d previously stood against it.”</p><p><em>Yes, that’s exactly what we’ve been planning, </em>Pansy thought, <em>portraying them as vaguely-contentious allies rather than bitter enemies.</em></p><p>“Instead of being able to trade favours in order to lend support to one side or the other,” Adrienne continued, her voice growing sharper, “the two ‘sides’ seem at risk of falling under the domain of a precious few families, and anyone who’s unable to adapt will find themselves squeezed to the outside.”</p><p>“So, Blaise…?”</p><p>“There’s going to be a number of young Pureblood women like yourself who will find themselves in need of a husband in short order,” Adrienne sniffed, “and my son is so <em>naïve </em>as to argue that he intends to marry for love, of all the foolish things. All these noble, ancient houses, ripe for the taking, and he thinks that he’ll just sit back and let them pass into the hands of others.”</p><p>Pansy thought through the implications of what Adrienne was saying. <em>True, </em>she considered, <em>Cyrus’s latest plans seem tailored to creating a new set of Lords of multiple Houses. It’s an opportunity for someone with designs on upwards mobility, but that’s not Blaise. </em></p><p>“There is <em>nothing</em>,” Adrienne complained, “more infuriating than someone who has a chance at taking power, only to turn away from it. Pathetic, condemnable cowardice, to let these opportunities slip by because of <em>feelings</em>.”</p><p>“What, you want me to find a match for him?” Pansy thought that she might be able to come up with a few names of women willing to overlook Blaise’s actual relationship, but she didn’t find the idea appealing in the slightest.</p><p>“Hardly,” Adrienne snapped, “after all, since you and he are such darling little friends, I’d rather put my trust in you rather than anyone who might sully his reputation.”</p><p>
  <em>She couldn’t mean…</em>
</p><p>“What are you getting at?” Pansy whispered harshly, as her and Lady Zabini had wound up at the bar, staffed by a sharply-dressed bartender.</p><p>“Barkeep!” Adrienne barked the order, “two Negronis, extra bitters, and be quick about it.”</p><p>Unflustered by her tone, the bartender bowed slightly in acquiescence, turning to begin fetching the ingredients for these cocktails.</p><p>“I finally tracked down your father, as it turns out,” Adrienne hissed, “being utterly impossible must be a family trait of yours, considering how fucking difficult it was to meet with him, wasting his time gallivanting across the continent as he is.”</p><p>“And?” Pansy grimaced.</p><p>“Since my son has proven to be utterly incapable of seeing reason,” Adrienne continued, “I am hoping that you’ll have the sense to see my threat for what it is. You will tell Blaise that he is to find a wife, more than one if possible, or else I have already done it for him.”</p><p>“You can’t,” Pansy gasped, “Marriage Contracts are due to be outlawed, in the divorce bill.”</p><p>“Not outlawed,” Adrienne smiled, and there was nothing kind in her expression, “merely requiring a vote at the Wizengamot to be upheld. I’m quite sure that I still have enough favours owed that I could get such a contract past that hurdle.”</p><p>“My father wouldn’t be so foolish as to trust you,” Pansy argued, knowing that her father would absolutely sell her for a handful of Galleons.</p><p>“He’s already put his name to the contract,” Adrienne sneered in triumph, “you have until the third part of Cyrus’s bill is passed to convince Blaise to see reason, or I shall sign my half of the contract, and the two of you will be wed.”</p><p>Pansy felt her fury rise, tempted to lash out at Lady Zabini right there, as if she could fight her way out of the black widow’s web.</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Pansy growled, unable to restrain herself completely.</p><p>“No, <em>you </em>don’t,” Adrienne smirked, “stop acting like a stupid little girl, Parkinson. You are not without talent, but there is too much at stake for me to tolerate your charades any longer. These are my terms; do remember that Pureblood women are meant to serve their House.”</p><p>“Oi, Patrick!” a brash voice – one of the last that Pansy wanted to hear, actually – interrupted her thoughts, “mind pouring me a whisky, would you?”</p><p>Sure enough, Susan Bones had appeared, leaning casually against the bar top, a dozen feet away from Pansy. The bartender – <em>“Patrick”, apparently</em> – gestured to the cocktail shaker he’d just opened, no doubt saying something about being in the middle of another order.</p><p>“Fuckin’ bitter Negronis?” Susan scoffed, and turned to face Pansy, “fuck’s sake, Parkinson, I thought you had decent taste in whisky, if nothing else.”</p><p><em>Fuck off, Bones, </em>Pansy prayed, <em>this really isn’t the fucking time. </em></p><p>“Lady Bones,” Adrienne drawled, “always <em>such</em> a pleasure. Once our drinks are prepared, I’m sure that the barkeep here will be happy to pour yours.”</p><p>“Nah,” Susan smirked, “Patrick, cancel that, pour us three Manhattans instead, please? Put some backbone in them, yeah?”</p><p>Bones was, as usual, the very picture of someone who wasn’t a “proper Pureblood lady” in the fucking slightest. Where nearly every other woman at the party wore some variety of cocktail dress (Pansy’s own was very near “traditional”, for that matter), Bones was instead outfitted in a tuxedo vest and matching trousers, the sleeves of her white dress shirt (rather than a blouse) rolled up to her elbows. Her outfit might have even looked masculine, but for the way the vest struggled to contain her (admittedly) considerable chest, and the glossy black heels that <em>clicked </em>against the floor as she approached.</p><p>“Smashing dress, Parkinson,” Bones drawled, “that one of yours?”</p><p>“Yes,” Pansy snipped, absolutely unwilling to find herself trapped between <em>two </em>women that she liked so little.</p><p>“We were in the middle of a discussion, Lady Bones,” Adrienne spoke with false sweetness, “if you don’t mind…?”</p><p>“Oh?” Bones grinned at the pair of them, a nearly-feral look in her eye, “surely you’ve got time for a drink, Adrienne.”</p><p>Without looking, Bones swept the trio of glasses that the bartender had slid towards her into her hands, then stepped forward with a quick, purposeful motion, walking past Pansy and directly into Adrienne Zabini’s personal space. The older witch took a half step backwards, apparently surprised.</p><p>Bones wasn’t much taller than Pansy herself was – certainly, Adrienne Zabini had the advantage there – but it seemed that the black widow was unused to such direct forms of confrontation, for how Bones somehow managed to loom over her despite her disadvantage in height.</p><p><em>Hmm, </em>Pansy thought, the beginnings of an idea circling her mind, <em>perhaps I’ve got some ‘power’ I can bring to bear, after all. </em></p><p>“I’m not much for whisky,” Adrienne frowned, “not a very ladylike beverage, is it?”</p><p>“Ah, well,” Susan lifted one of the glasses to her lips, and drained most of the Manhattan in a single, long pull, “’no accounting for taste’, right?”</p><p>“Hmph,” Adrienne huffed, “very well. Pansy, I trust we’ll speak later. Good-night, Lady Bones, Heiress Parkinson.”</p><p>Lady Zabini melted back into the crowd, leaving Pansy and Bones alone at the bar.</p><p>“I don’t need rescuing,” Pansy snarled, her voice low enough to stay private.</p><p>“Don’t you?” Bones scoffed, sliding a Manhattan into Pansy’s hand, as she slid her own now-empty glass away, and started to drink the third, “you were just about to share a drink with the fuckin’ <em>black widow, </em>not exactly a great long-term survival tactic, that.”</p><p>“She wouldn’t fucking poison me in public,” Pansy took a deep drink from the cocktail in her hand, finding that the whisky didn’t soothe her nerves at all.</p><p>“Probably not,” Bones shrugged, “but let’s just say that now isn’t the time to be taking chances.”</p><p>“Fine, thank you for saving my life, you’re my hero,” Pansy spoke sarcastically, “are we done here?”</p><p>“Nope,” Bones seemed to be infuriatingly resistant to firing back at that moment, “let’s have a little chat, yeah?”</p><p>“Why are you even here,” Pansy sighed, “Lady Zabini at least makes some sense, she’s a prolific commissioner of portraits of herself, but you’re no artist, Bones.”</p><p>“I’m a known patron of the arts,” Bones smirked.</p><p>“You’re a known fan of <em>one artist</em>,” Pansy grumbled, “hardly fucking counts.”</p><p>“See, we’ve got some good taste in common, after all,” Bones clinked her glass against Pansy’s, “and, as it turns out, I organized this little shindig, yeah? So, yeah, my attendance is a pretty logical outcome.”</p><p><em>Well, that explains why she was able to boss the bartender around so effectively, at least, </em>Pansy admitted.</p><p>“What do you fucking want,” Pansy hissed, “I’m really not in the mood for this right now.”</p><p>“I don’t give a fuck,” Susan replied cheerily, “you and I are on the same side of things for once, and that means that I need you doing what you’re here to do, not getting suckered into whatever the fuckin’ black widow has in mind for you.”</p><p><em>She has worse in mind than I expected, </em>Pansy thought.</p><p>“Stay in your lane, Bones,” Pansy rolled her eyes, “you’re a useful enough blunt instrument, I’ll give you that, but you’ve hardly got what it takes to handle the subtler aspects of fucking Pureblood idiocy.”</p><p>“Don’t I?”</p><p>“If I want you to duel someone,” Pansy drawled, “I’ll point you in the right direction. When it comes to playing Pureblood games, leave that to me.”</p><p>“That’s the thing, though,” Bones swirled her drink, “this isn’t a fuckin’ game, and I know that you’re smart enough to understand that. So, I’m stepping in to tell you not to pull one of your typical reactions, don’t go flying off the fucking rails because Zabini found a button to push.”</p><p>“You don’t know what she said,” Pansy snapped.</p><p>“Nope!” Bones repeated, “still don’t give a fuck! Get your shit together, Parkinson, or else Daph is going to have to step in for you in this little act.”</p><p>“Why don’t you just replace me, if you’re so confident?” Pansy scoffed, “aren’t you a silver-tongued politician, after all?”</p><p>Bones barked out a half-bitter laugh, then threw her head back, draining the rest of her cocktail. Rather than replying to Pansy, she furrowed her brow in concentration for a few moments. In the <em>last </em>action Pansy would have expected, Bones then stuck her tongue out, where the stem from the cherry which <em>had </em>garnished her drink lay tied in a neat loop, wrapped around a silver stud piercing in the middle of her tongue.</p><p><em>She literally has a silver tongue, </em>Pansy was tempted to roll her eyes, <em>of fucking course.</em></p><p>“Turns out, maybe I’m more capable than you’re aware of,” Bones smirked, as she stood from the bar, “try and keep up, Parkinson.”</p><p>Pansy drained the rest of her beverage, and stormed outside.</p><p>
  <em>I need a fucking smoke.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The cool night air completely and utterly failed to alleviate the fire in Pansy’s veins.</p><p>As she blew smoke from her nostrils, she ran through the night’s recent events in her mind, trying to make sense of her next actions. She shouldn’t have been surprised that her father would be willing to sign a Marriage Contract – dubiously “legal” that they were about to become – but this had revealed a significant shortcoming in their plans.</p><p>At the same time, it had made clear just how successful Daphne and Harry’s side of the trio’s plot had been: if even Adrienne Zabini was fooled into thinking that Harry and Cyrus Greengrass were actually building an alliance, that certainly helped the odds that Harry would be able to defang the worst parts of the “Rights and Responsibilities” bill that Cyrus sought to pass.</p><p><em>I can see why she might think that, </em>Pansy admitted, <em>from an outside perspective, it sure seems as if Houses Potter-Black, Greengrass, and Weasley are tying themselves into a knot that will wield significant power once Astoria becomes Lady of her House. </em></p><p>A more frustrating concession was the fact that fucking Susan Bones had also been playing her part to perfection. Pansy had, in fact, been moments away from exploding at Adrienne, which would have disastrously undercut her own role as a “new Pureblood”, one more concerned with status and power than blood purity.</p><p>Pansy was tempted to storm back inside the party, fill her stomach with liquor, and do something <em>dramatic, </em>but understood that this sort of reaction wouldn’t be helpful to anyone, as satisfying as it may have been.</p><p>In truth, being seen leaving the party after a heated discussion with Bones would be the most productive move she could make: it would further distance herself from the way that Bones was being publicly portrayed as a candidate for one of Harry’s two Houses, and build a wedge between the reformists and new money that they could wield for their own purposes.</p><p><em>I’ve gotta talk to Blaise, </em>Pansy knew, <em>I’d be shocked if his mother had let him in on her plan. </em></p><p>Adrienne seemed to be certain that the passage of Cyrus’s third bill was inevitable, which also meant she was clearly unaware of the conspiracy seeking to prevent that. Sure, she’d certainly sussed out Pansy’s intentions clearly enough, but seemed to have missed the possibility that Pansy wasn’t acting alone.</p><p><em>I’ve got more allies that I can call in than you expect, bitch, </em>Pansy grinned to herself, <em>you won’t even see it coming. </em></p><p>Her thoughts a bit more settled, Pansy apparated home, leaving the party behind.</p>
<hr/><p>Pansy found Harry seated in a chair in the lounge, an intimidatingly-thick book spread out across his lap.</p><p>“Hey,” Harry greeted her, “you’re back early. Everything okay?”</p><p>“No,” Pansy admitted, “but it will be. I’ll tell you later.”</p><p>She crossed the room and planted herself firmly in Harry’s lap (after he tossed his book aside), crushing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as soon as she settled onto him.</p><p>“Mmf,” Harry mumbled, “welcome home, then.”</p><p>
  <em>I’ll show you a proper welcoming…</em>
</p><p>She peppered more kisses against Harry’s lips, then the side of his jaw, then his neck, as she lifted herself to her knees, before sinuously crawling down from his lap. Pansy knelt between his legs, and Harry groaned when she pressed her face into his groin, where she felt his manhood already growing stiff against her cheek.</p><p>“Pants off,” Pansy ordered, and her boyfriend hurried to obey.</p><p>Impatiently, Pansy yanked his underwear down, tossing the article of clothing aside unceremoniously, and Harry wound up sitting in his chair in just a t-shirt before he knew it. Without any further delay, Pansy leaned forward to trail her tongue wetly over the length of his cock, prompting another satisfied moan from her boyfriend.</p><p>“You seem eager,” Harry teased.</p><p><em>You’ve got no fucking idea, </em>Pansy thought, as she trailed her hands along the inside of his thighs, before she gripped his cock in one hand, holding it steady so that she could wrap her mouth around his cockhead. She sucked eagerly, hollowing her cheeks and bobbing her head, pumping her hand up and down in time, and before long, Harry’s cock was fully hard within her mouth.</p><p>Pansy put all of her considerable skills into action just as quickly as she’d initiated things, plunging downwards until the tip of Harry’s cock prodded at the back of her throat. Taking a deep breath through her nose in preparation, Pansy forced herself even lower, luxuriating in the way that Harry’s manhood throbbed under her touch, its thickness almost enough to make her gag despite her ability to deep-throat.</p><p>“Fuck, Pans,” Harry moaned, “that’s fantastic.”</p><p>He reached to her head, trying to run his fingers gently through her hair, but Pansy had other ideas in mind. She released her grip on his cock, grabbed his hands, and planted them firmly on the sides of the chair, before looking up to meet his gaze. Pansy pushed the final inches of his cock into her throat as she stared at him, watching Harry’s eyes glaze over with lust.</p><p>Pansy held that position for a few moments, then started to fuck her own face against his pelvis, allowing throaty <em>glurk </em>noises to escape her lips. Harry stared at her with something like awe on his face, and she loved seeing him so impressed by her.  </p><p>She gasped for breath when she lifted free of his member, but wasted no time in grasping him with both hands, stroking his spit-slick cock with urgency. Pansy ducked her head lower, tracing her tongue around one of his balls, then the other, before gently sucking it into her mouth, pumping her hands all the while.</p><p><em>You’re mine, </em>she thought, <em>right now, I can do whatever I want.</em></p><p>She pressed her face against his balls, sticking her tongue out as far as she could to trace it around the sensitive underside of his testicles.</p><p>“Fuck!” Harry voiced his approval, “shite, if you keep that up much longer, you’re going to make me cum!”</p><p>“Good,” Pansy purred, and lifted her head to press her face against Harry’s manhood, staring at him intently as she nuzzled her cheek against his throbbing erection, “I<em> want </em>to make you cum.”</p><p>She lifted her head to press her lips against the tip of his cock in a sloppy kiss, tasting his salty pre-cum as she did so. Pansy continued to stroke him with one hand, while the other trailed lower, gently cradling his balls, rolling her fingertips against them.</p><p>Pansy made sure to be as loud and blatant about her intentions as she could be, making sloppy noises as she bobbed her head back and forth, strings of saliva running from her lips as she treated Harry to the best blowjob that she could deliver. True to his word, she felt Harry’s cock starting to swell and twitch in her hand, and Pansy knew that he was getting close.</p><p>“Cum <em>all over me,</em>” she ordered, as she popped him out of her mouth, and she moaned in approval when he did just that, several thick ropes of cum erupting from his cock and landing across her face. She surreptitiously shuffled free from her thong, pulling it down her legs and tossing it aside while Harry recovered from his orgasm.</p><p>“Holy fuck,” Harry gasped, “not that I’m complaining, but… <em>wow</em>, what’s all that about?”</p><p>“It’s not time to talk yet,” Pansy told him, as she climbed back up onto his lap, “I’ve got better uses for your tongue.”</p><p>From her kneeling position, Pansy rose higher, so that her feet sank into the edges of the seat, and thrust her hips towards Harry’s face. Her boyfriend wasted no time in obeying her desires, flipping her dress up, and burying his mouth between her legs.</p><p>“Fuck yes, Potter,” Pansy hissed, “just like that.”</p><p>Pansy was quite happy (<em>thrilled, even</em>) to admit that Harry was <em>far </em>more enthusiastic about eating pussy than any of the men she’d been with before him, and his enthusiasm was equally matched by his talent, but on that night, Pansy was looking for more than his rather-satisfying level of skill could provide alone.   </p><p>“Harry,” she commanded, “do the Parseltongue thing.”</p><p>“Oh, uh,” Harry thought for a moment, and Pansy adored the way that her juices shone on his chin, “want to turn around? I need to see a snake to do it, yeah?”</p><p><em>No, I want to see your eyes, </em>Pansy thought.</p><p>Frustrated by the interruption, she waved her fingers in the air, letting whatever impulse she felt flow through her fingers. Surprisingly, wisps of glowing smoke erupted from her digits, before an image of a little green snake (an asp, if she had it right) appeared, floating in the air between them.</p><p>“Huh,” Harry smirked at the display of wandless, wordless magic she’d somehow managed to pull off, “that works.”</p><p>“Fffffuck!” Pansy yelped as Harry dove back into his task, the inhuman speed at which his tongue flickered and writhed against her sex knocking the strength out of her legs. Harry’s hands firmly grasped her arse, casually supporting her weight as she sagged against him, and she wordlessly moaned her approval as she tangled her fingers into his hair. After mere moments of this treatment, she felt heat pooling in her belly, an orgasm building in her core.</p><p>“<em>Come for me,</em>” Harry hissed, and met her eyes with his fiery emerald gaze.</p><p>She did. <em>Hard</em>.</p><p>Pansy shrieked as she climaxed, and her legs went entirely limp, collapsing back into Harry’s lap bonelessly.</p><p>“Fuck,” Pansy groaned, “that was just what I needed.”</p><p>She quickly cast a charm to clean her face before she leaned forward to peck Harry’s lips, and she felt him smirk against her kiss.</p><p>“Rough night?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.</p><p>“Yeah, a bit,” Pansy murmured, wrapping her arms around him, “I’ll go through it when Daph gets back, but I’m feeling <em>tons </em>better now. Thanks.”</p><p>“My pleasure,” Harry chuckled, and he closed his own arms around her in an embrace, “quite literally, as it turns out. That was a fucking incredible blowjob, by the way.”</p><p>Pansy made a noise of acknowledgment, feeling a smile crossing her features.</p><p>“I felt like I wanted to ‘serve’ you,” she explained, “and, well, that means that you had to serve me in turn, right?”</p><p>“Happy to,” Harry kissed the top of her head, and Pansy purred contentedly as she did her best to forget her lingering fears for a little while.</p>
<hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>FIVE</strong>
</p><p>A “ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ” ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴀs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴏғ ᴀ ʜᴀɴᴅ. Iᴛ ʜᴏʟᴅs ᴀ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʜᴀʟғᴡᴀʏ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ɴɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ. Tʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ, ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ ᴏғ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are heating up!</p><p>I'd be curious to hear speculation as to what went on in this chapter, especially what Pansy might be planning!</p><p>Generally speaking I'd like to hear other comments as well, of course!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Cartilage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry attends a Wizengamot session with a surprise speech, and Pansy practices her skills</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>To tell the truth of it, Harry was starting to find the whole Wizengamot thing kind of <em>routine</em>, in the most frustrating way. He understood that their whole strategy was a slow-play, rather than one marked with dramatic moves to seize power, but sitting through all the same routines and protocols session after session was far from his favourite way to spend his time.</p><p><em>Sure, </em>Harry thought, <em>Cyrus had a little scheme to rush past the first reading of his new divorce bill, but there’s still two more readings to go before it even gets to a vote.</em></p><p>The second of these readings was meant to occur during this session, which was the only reason Harry found himself willing to sit through the droning welcoming announcements and preludes to actual Wizengamot activity.</p><p>“Before we begin the day’s business,” Cyrus Greengrass spoke, “a member of the Wizarding community has petitioned for his right to speak before the Wizengamot.”</p><p>Harry sat up a bit, and paid closer attention to this new development.</p><p>“I introduce to you Heir William Weasley,” Cyrus announced, “Heir Weasley, the floor is yours.”</p><p>Sure enough, Bill Weasley walked through the entrance, dressed in a very passable imitation of traditional dress robes, rather than his usual “leathers and bared arms” look.</p><p><em>Bill, </em>Harry fought the urge to groan, <em>what are you doing?</em></p><p>“My Lords and Ladies,” Bill spoke, sounding certain of himself, “Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot, thank you for hearing me today.”</p><p>Harry leaned forward in his seat, intent.</p><p>“I have come before you,” Bill continued, “to argue in favour of passing the Conditions for Termination of Marriage Act. As many of you know, it was the unfortunate termination of my own previous marriage which prompted this legislation, so I wish to share my own perspective as to why granting divorces will, in fact, be a benefit to our culture.”</p><p><em>That’s not how Bill talks, </em>Harry recognized, <em>he’s been coached on what to say.</em></p><p>“It may seem like a contradiction, I understand,” Bill seemed to plead with his audience, “but I firmly believe that Wizarding families will actually become <em>strengthened</em> if this bill is passed into law. I am an extremely fortunate man, in many ways, but the way that I am luckiest is that I’ve always had the support of my family to fall back on.”</p><p><em>Pulling at the Wizengamot’s heartstrings? </em>Harry wondered what Cyrus’s ploy was here.</p><p>“Furthermore, I am blessed with a large family. The love and support I’ve received has been the greatest boon that any Wizard could get, and it’s my sincere wish that I can provide this same support to my future family,” Bill’s voice quavered a bit, but he seemed to stay on-target with his planned speech.</p><p>“It is the sad truth that families can also be complicated,” Bill announced, “and, in my own life, I found that the marriage I had entered was one which, through no fault of either party, was not going to lead to a happy family together.”</p><p><em>‘Through no fault of either party’ is making excuses a bit there, Bill, </em>Harry thought with a hint of bitterness.</p><p>“Both me and my former wife were fortunate enough to dissolve our flawed marriage, leaving each of us free to seek marriage to others, ones which will – hopefully – produce these strong, Wizarding families,” Bill puffed himself up, “I’ve learned first-hand that while divorce may be a bitter price to pay, at first, the long-term benefits greatly outweigh this cost.”</p><p><em>Making divorce possible is already one of those rare areas we agree on, </em>Harry was confused, <em>who, exactly, are you trying to convince here?</em></p><p>“Another unfortunate truth,” Bill swept his gaze over the seated members, “is that my generation has found itself somewhat… unbalanced, some might say. Not all families have been as fortunate as mine; where I have four brothers, many ancient lines have found themselves without a son.”</p><p><em>Not quite Blood Purity rhetoric, </em>Harry evaluated, <em>but not that far off. </em></p><p>“It is my wish,” Bill crossed a hand over his chest, “that every Wizarding family were as supportive, as tightly-knit, and as large as mine. I firmly believe that, instead of leaving young Witches alone, unable to marry, it is an outright <em>necessity </em>to allow these women to seek out husbands who will care for them as they deserve, and that it is foolish to limit a family to only one wife, one mother.”</p><p><em>The polygamy angle? </em>Harry was baffled, <em>is it that unpopular?</em></p><p>He glanced over the seated members, and found that several members of various “Neutral” Houses seemed to be pondering this idea, while a few of Harry’s Reformist allies looked outright surprised by Bill’s speech.</p><p><em>Ah, </em>Harry realized, <em>you’re trying to pander to the same faction that I hope to swing to my side. </em></p><p>Harry sat forward in his seat, crossing his hands in front of his face in a way that he hoped came off as ‘deep in calculated thought’.</p><p><em>Cyrus, </em>Harry mused, <em>you utter <strong>prat.</strong></em></p><p>On its surface, this move was actually a clever one, but Harry thought that his political opponent just made a grievous misstep for the first time. Sure, Bill Weasley was a notable public figure that ticked off many boxes which would endear him to Neutral or Reformist voters (a Pureblood, but definitely on the right side during the war, Heir to his House, but not overly involved in traditional Wizarding society, and so on), but, sadly, that was not the only way that Bill was publicly perceived.</p><p>As the face of the new “wolf-blooded” demographic, Bill Weasley was <em>also </em>someone who was distinctly unpalatable to many of the more staunchly Traditionalist faction.</p><p>Harry hid his grin behind his hands as Bill concluded his speech.</p><p>“I would say that marriage is something like a puzzle,” Bill spoke, “if two pieces do not fit together properly, the rest of the picture will be incomplete. It’s better if these pieces can be separated, and placed with more appropriate matches. But not only that, many pieces of a puzzle will connect to more than one match; this is why I implore you, Lords and Ladies, Wizards and Witches, to vote in favour of a more complete picture, a stronger Wizarding Britain.”</p><p><em>You thought that this would be a shot across my bow, </em>Harry thought through Cyrus’s plan with this move, <em>bringing in one of my allies to speak in your favour.</em></p><p><em>I’m pretty much as big a fan of Bill Weasley as I am of your other bill, </em>Harry suppressed a chuckle at his own pun, <em>all you’ve accomplished here is pissing off <strong>your</strong> allies. </em></p><p>
  <em>We can use this.</em>
</p><p>Sure enough, when Bill concluded his speech to a smattering of somewhat-bewildered applause, Harry caught sight of Garland Selwyn outright <em>scowling </em>in Bill’s direction, before turning his ill-tempered gaze towards Cyrus.</p><p>Harry’s plan was already that he’d stay out of the second reading of Cyrus’s divorce bill, but once he met with Hermione, he was certain they’d have a new opportunity to bring up during the <em>third </em>reading down the road.</p>
<hr/><p>“Yeah,” Ron concurred, “Bill’s been more than a bit of an idiot lately.”</p><p>The third member of the old golden trio had found himself part of Harry’s meeting with Hermione (as Ron had explained, Astoria had <em>insisted </em>that he get out of their house for a bit, because he was fussing over her and Frederick too much), and Harry was glad for it.</p><p>“Well,” Hermione mused, “he certainly has his own motivations for throwing his lot in, doesn’t he? It certainly sounds as if his lifestyle, if that’s the correct term, is likely to lead to multiple marriages.”</p><p>Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged and drank his beer instead of providing any more details.</p><p>“Er, yeah,” Harry agreed, “I can’t say that I’ve got a good handle on the specifics of that whole wolf-blooded thing, but I know he’s been pestering Katie lately, and him and Lavender are still shacking up…”</p><p>Harry’s friend and “for-a-time, in-the-past” lover had actually written him a letter that he’d received a couple days before: apparently, Bill was being <em>rather</em> insistent that she’d be a good fit for his pack (<em>whatever that means, </em>Harry thought), and Katie was far too polite to simply tell Bill to fuck off.</p><p>Katie had explained that she didn’t want for George to over-react and do anything dramatic – nor for Ginny to literally attack her eldest brother – so Harry was her next best bet for recommending that Bill quit bothering her.</p><p><em>Almost slipped my mind, </em>Harry realized, <em>I’ve been too busy with politics, I should write her back. </em></p><p>Of course, it also provided a rather convenient excuse for him to chastise Bill that wasn’t actually related to Bill’s display of allegiance to Cyrus Greengrass, which would only further muddy Cyrus’s perception of who Harry actually counted among his allies.</p><p>“Hmm,” Hermione tapped a finger against her chin in thought, “well, either way, this seems to have been poorly thought-out. It’s unfortunate, as much as I support his movement, it’s certainly not popular among the traditionalist faction.”</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” Harry sipped his beer, “there weren’t any proposed changes at today’s reading, but there was definitely more tension in the room than the last one.”</p><p>In fact, Harry had caught Lord Selwyn storming down from the gallery towards Cyrus, before he’d left the Wizengamot.</p><p>“We could push back on this,” Hermione proposed, “if we tied multiple marriages directly to Lordships, it would tie off the loophole that Cyrus is opening, without hurting you down the road. More of a traditional stance, but if they’re upset with Cyrus…”</p><p>“That’d be tough,” Ron muttered, “hate to say it, but from what Harry said, Bill’s speech will resonate with the sort who’ll want their daughters to marry other Purebloods. There’s not exactly enough eligible bachelors left to marry off all the various daughters, yeah?”</p><p>“Mate,” Harry chuckled, “look at you, getting involved in politics.”</p><p>“Ergh,” Ron grumbled, “I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but I <em>am </em>technically a Pureblood, yeah? Mum and dad never got into all the blood purity shite, of course, but we’re still a Wizarding family, so I still learned a bit about all this growing up.”</p><p>“Y’know,” Harry mused, “I’ve been thinking…”</p><p>“That’s a first,” Hermione snorted, and he rolled his eyes at her.</p><p>“Why <em>is </em>it that your family isn’t more powerful?” Harry asked Ron, “I mean, you’re one of the ‘Sacred Twenty-Eight’ and all, but most of the other families on that list have got more votes than your dad does.”</p><p>“Wizengamot seats are just as shite as the rest of Pureblood traditions,” Ron shrugged, “it’s always been a club where the ‘right families’ keep each other in power, ancestral seats and the number of votes they get are just part of that.”</p><p>“Well, Harry has a whole bunch of votes, individually,” Hermione added, “surely that will shake things up?”</p><p>“Oh, definitely,” Ron agreed, “like I said, this isn’t my thing, but, yeah. ‘Nobility’ is more important than how old your House is, and you’ve got two ‘Most Noble’ seats under your arse, now.”</p><p>“I always dreamed of having the noblest arse,” Harry chuckled.</p><p>“Why is that?” Hermione asked, “I’ve got a grasp of the basics, but it almost seems backwards to Pureblood culture that they wouldn’t place as much emphasis on how old a house is.”</p><p>“That’s the trick,” Ron gestured with his bottle of beer, “whether a house counts as ‘Noble’ or ‘Most Noble’ comes down to how many titles a Head of House has received in the history of their bloodline. The group of families that started out with these titles get to decide who else receives them, so over time, they get to make sure that their allies are elevated, and their opponents keep the same status.”</p><p> “Same old, same old,” Harry hummed, “the Wizengamot’s basically set up to prevent things from changing too fast, yeah?”</p><p>“That’s the better one of the two, if you can believe it,” Ron grumbled, “the only way a house can wind up ‘Most Ancient’ is if it was already listed as one of the Wizarding families back when they founded the Wizengamot in the first place. I think there were a couple dozen, or so.”</p><p><em>Hmm, </em>Harry wondered, <em>I bet the Peverells were one of them…</em></p><p>“Harry,” Hermione interjected, “what would you think of trying to respond in kind?”</p><p>“How’s that?”</p><p>“Well,” she started, “we <em>could </em>bring in the other most notorious divorcée, couldn’t we?”</p><p>“Ah,” Harry realized, “no, uh, I’m not sure what she’s got planned, but apparently Pansy’s already got something in motion that involves Fleur somehow.”</p><p>Harry had been <em>furious </em>when Pansy had revealed that Adrienne Zabini had organized a marriage contract between Pansy and Blaise, but his girlfriend had quickly reassured him and Daphne that she had already started formulating a response.</p><p>While his first instinct had been to go challenge Lady Zabini to a duel, Harry had to admit that he was sure that whatever Pansy had in mind would wind up being even worse for the ‘black widow’.</p><p>“Fleur’d be no good for you, anyways,” Ron provided his opinion, “don’t get me wrong, I think Bill’s an absolute twat for cheating on her, but the crusty old lot at the Wizengamot would see her as nothing more than a jilted Galleon-chaser, yeah?”</p><p>“Are you quite certain you don’t want in on this?” Hermione asked, in disbelief, “you seem to have a much better grasp of politics than you claimed, Ron.”</p><p>“Nah,” Ron grinned, “I’ve picked up a thing or two from Stori, sure, but you both know I’d wind up over-reacting and making a fool of myself if I got any more involved than I am. It’s just not too hard to figure out how traditional families would react, really.”</p><p>“How’s that?” Hermione sounded curious.</p><p>“Honestly, it’s a bit like chess, innit?” Ron chuckled, “you’ve made your play, and created a fork. Stori’s dad responded by chasing down one side of the board, and he’s eating up your pawns, but that’s just what you had in mind.”</p><p>“So, what next, then?” Harry found that he just barely grasped Ron’s analogy.</p><p>“He’s playing into your gambit,” Ron answered, “sure, right now, he’s taken more pieces than you have, but he doesn’t realize he’s over-extending and opening up his back row. You need to figure out what you can sacrifice before you spring the trap, because if you don’t get him in checkmate, he’ll have too much of an edge.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “this bill isn’t worth fighting against too hard. We need to save our big moves for the next one, the <em>really </em>shite one.”</p><p>“I suppose I can see the logic,” Hermione huffed, “it still seems awfully unfair that he’s baked so much sexism into a divorce bill.”</p><p>“Actually,” Harry cut in, “I had a bit of an idea about that. You know how Bill raised all those points about protecting the futures of young Pureblood women?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Well,” Harry smiled, “why don’t I make sure that I propose a change to protect their Houses, yeah?”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>Deep in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place, Pansy’s heart thrummed in her chest in excitement.</p><p>While Harry had remained ever-so-cautious about going up against her or Daphne in their duelling training, for some reason, his hesitance didn’t extend to bringing in other experts for Pansy and her girlfriend to test their mettle against. This was how they currently found themselves standing on the Black duelling arena, facing down Hermione Granger.</p><p>“Right,” Harry spoke from the sidelines, “so, uh, I want to see how you two are doing at silent casting, and staying mobile.”</p><p>“Are there any particular charms or hexes,” Hermione asked, “that you’ve been working on?”</p><p>“The usual set of basic combat spells,” Harry muttered, “er, maybe stick to ones that aren’t particularly dangerous, for now? We aren’t actually sure how powerful you two are, mind.”</p><p>It was true that Pansy had found that she suddenly had more magical ability than she was used to – her recent use of wandless and wordless magic was proof enough of that – but she still wouldn’t have counted herself as a particularly <em>powerful </em>member of Wizarding society, all things considered.</p><p><em>That’s what I’m here to change, </em>she thought.</p><p>Her insistence on learning how to duel properly wasn’t exactly a skill that she was eager to put into use, but with the recent political climate in Wizarding society, Pansy strongly suspected that being known as <em>capable </em>when it came to magical combat was due to become an even more valuable status. Certainly, Adrienne Zabini had seemed to be unable to handle the presence of Susan Bones, who was (<em>of course</em>) well-regarded as a skilled duellist.</p><p>“Okay!” Hermione chirped, “nothing too dangerous, any other rules or restrictions to keep in mind?”</p><p>“Uh,” Harry flicked his gaze nervously towards Pansy and Daphne, “go a bit easy on them, yeah?”</p><p><em>Oh, fuck off, </em>Pansy thought, even as she recognized that Harry had the best intentions in mind.</p><p>“I can handle myself better than you might think,” Daphne protested.</p><p>“I’m sure, yeah,” Harry stammered, “just, uh, this is training, yeah? I wanna see what you two can do, is all.”</p><p>“I’m ready when you are, Granger,” Pansy taunted, continuing to use Hermione’s last name solely for how it ruffled the bushy-haired witch.</p><p>“Alright!” Hermione seemed to ignore the provocation, “count us in, Harry?”</p><p>Pansy steeled herself as Harry did so.</p><p>As soon as he announced ‘go’, Pansy and Daphne sprung into action. Over the course of their training so far, they’d worked out that Daphne still held the edge in raw power, but Pansy had a fair degree of talent when it came to some of the more intricate charms they’d learned.</p><p>Daphne summoned a shield charm large enough to encompass both her and Pansy, while Pansy flicked her wand through the motions of the anti-disapparition jinx; they’d be utterly helpless if Hermione were allowed to teleport herself around the arena.</p><p>“Good!” Harry yelled from the sidelines, “shut down enemy tactics!”</p><p>Pansy stepped forward to replace Daphne’s shield, while her girlfriend started to cast one of the ice-based spells that her family had invented, but – <em>worryingly </em>– it seemed that Hermione had yet to take any significant action herself.</p><p>Instead, the brunette was standing in place (exactly contrary to Harry’s advice), her wand flicking around rapidly through complicated gestures. When Daphne’s bolt of frost hit the air near their opponent, a silver-blue shield charm revealed itself around Hermione, not <em>protego, </em>but something more complex.</p><p>Hermione pointed her wand at Pansy, and she felt like her entire <em>being </em>shook from the impact of the stunner that Hermione had fired into her shield.</p><p>“Advanced duellists can attack while maintaining their shield!” Harry helpfully added.</p><p>Pansy met Daphne’s gaze quickly, nodding her head towards one side of the arena. Her girlfriend picked up on the hint, and as a pair, the two women sprinted in that direction, avoiding a burst of golden light which spiraled around the spot where Pansy had just been standing.</p><p>“Good movement!” Harry shouted.</p><p>Pansy flicked her wand in Hermione’s direction as she ran, but as she had feared, her own stunner simply faded out of existence when it struck the shield that Hermione had erected.</p><p><em>“Discutio!” </em>Daphne shouted, opting to surrender the advantage of silent casting in favour of using a more powerful shield-breaker spell.</p><p>Pansy immediately cast another stunner to follow it, but even as Hermione’s silver-blue shield shattered, a second, golden shield appeared behind it and stopped her attack.</p><p>“Defenses can be layered!” Harry added. <em>Thanks, love, </em>Pansy thought with frustration, <em>really couldn’t have figured that out myself. </em></p><p>Hermione continued to flick her wand around in tight patterns, and Pansy’s jaw nearly dropped as a whirling ring of glowing runes sprung into existence, circling the floor around Hermione. While Runes wasn’t exactly Pansy’s best subject, she could still tell at a glance that her opponent was obviously using mastery-level spells.</p><p>“Daph!” Pansy yelled, “hit her <em>hard</em>!”</p><p>“<em>Glacius Carcero!” </em>Daphne obliged, using a charm – another Greengrass invention, in fact – which appropriately translated to something like ‘ice prison’. Walls of frost sprung into existence around Hermione, but though it made the runes around her glow more brightly, Daphne’s attack failed to penetrate Hermione’s defenses.</p><p>“Not bad,” Hermione spoke for the first time, “but elemental attacks have a notable weakness…”</p><p>When the bushy-haired witch flicked her wand again, a burst of dark purple fire sprung from her implement, immediately burning a hole through the walls of ice around her. The fire disappeared as soon as it shattered Daphne’s spell, which Pansy suspected was entirely because Hermione had dismissed it, rather than because the spells had cancelled each other out.</p><p>“My turn,” Hermione announced.</p><p>She flicked her wand and cast a charm that Pansy didn’t recognize, and at once, all the silent casting that their opponent had been preparing came to fruition: bands of golden light sparked into existence around Hermione, and on either side of her head, a circle of runes appeared in the air.</p><p>Pansy just got her shield up in time to block the first stunner, but quickly became pinned down when it was followed by a second, then a third, until all she could do was pour her magic into her <em>protego </em>charm and hope to weather the attack.</p><p><em>She’s not even the one casting these stunners, </em>Pansy realized, impressed with Hermione for good reason, <em>she’s put together a self-casting charm and keyed it into the <strong>air </strong>around her. </em></p><p>Daphne was faring no better, similarly trapped under her own shield, holding off the constant stream of stunning charms being fired by Hermione’s rune-crafted spell.  </p><p>Where Harry seemed to duel as if he were an unstoppable force of nature, it seemed that Hermione Granger duelled as if she were an engineer: her charms were more advanced than Pansy understood, and even worse, interlocked and wove together, like a machine shaped from magic itself. She’d designed a spell that cast its own spells, a feat that would have probably earned her a Charms mastery by itself, let alone being able to use it in a <em>duel</em>.</p><p>Pansy noticed that Hermione flicked her wand, sending a golden beam past the two of them, but could do nothing to stop it. Where this spell impacted the floor, <em>another </em>circle of runes appeared, and as soon as it landed, Hermione muttered a word, then disappeared.</p><p>All at once, Pansy’s shield disappeared, her wand was ripped out of her grasp, and her body froze up as one of Hermione’s rune-cast stunners hit her.</p><p>“Anti-disapparation jinxes are useful,” Harry called out, “but there’s other means of teleporting, yeah?”</p><p>“What,” Daphne huffed a breath after Hermione dismissed her charms, “the fuck was <em>that</em>? I only recognized half the runes you used!”</p><p>“Well,” Hermione smiled with satisfaction, “that was an intangible automaton-charm, similar to the ones used in sentry statues, or something along those lines. It turns out that with sufficient rune-craft, you can place these spells wherever you please, rather than being limited to tying them into an object.”</p><p>“And the teleportation?” Pansy gasped.</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Hermione nodded to herself, “I’d cast a delayed departure charm around myself when our duel began, so I simply placed the destination behind you. It’s a similar magic to that of portkeys, actually.”</p><p><em>Ugh. </em>Pansy panted for breath, surprised at the level of physical exertion involved in using magic like this. <em>I’ve got a <strong>lot </strong>of catching up to do before I can get anywhere near “intimidatingly powerful”.</em></p><p><em>Fortunately, </em>she thought, <em>I know someone who’s already on that level. </em></p>
<hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>FOUR</strong>
</p><p>A "ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ" ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ. Oғᴛ sᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ sᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘs; Fᴏᴜʀ Eʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛs, Fᴏᴜʀ Tᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴍᴇɴᴛs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇs. Iɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇs, ᴀ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴏᴍᴇɴ.  </p>
<hr/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are happening.</p><p>This is a bit of a transition chapter, where a couple different plot lines are shoved a little closer to their destinations, but not quite there yet!</p><p>I'm looking forward to seeing your comments!</p><p>On that note, should I make a discord? Is that a thing for all series now? I'd like to know what you think about this too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Atrium (Daphne/Harry)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daphne gets a feel for the lay of the land after Harry's latest move</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>Daphne idly twirled a lock of her hair in her fingers as she sat outside of the Ministry of Magic. The weather had, thankfully, started to improve of late, so she wore a flowy yellow-and-white dress, with a smart periwinkle jacket overtop.</p><p>Inside the halls of the ministry, the Wizengamot was in session, though – presumably – about to conclude for the day. The third reading of her father’s divorce bill was set to occur, and with it, their opportunity to make changes which would alleviate one of the worst loopholes it contained.</p><p><em>It’s fairly awful, really, </em>Daphne thought, as she pondered said loophole, <em>that by the wording of the law, a Lady would lose her House to her ex-husband if they divorced.</em></p><p>The intent behind this provision was, of course, quite clear: it would allow Pureblood men from lesser Houses to enhance their status by pressuring the various heiresses to Wizengamot seats into ill-suited marriages. Once the sham marriage dissolved, the heiress would be free of her obligations to start pumping out children, but at the cost of her political power.</p><p>Daphne suspected that some women would begrudgingly take that deal, which only made it more important that Harry, Susan, and the rest of their allies prevented the possibility from becoming reality.</p><p>Before long, the large front doors of the Ministry swung open, and Daphne prepared herself for her own role: to be publicly sighted enacting a “courtship”.</p><p>Instead of the woman she was hoping to see, however, it was a different familiar face who walked out of the ministry, spotted her, and walked towards Daphne: Lord Merrick Bulstrode. <em>Millicent’s father.</em></p><p>In retrospect, it was clear that Daphne’s not-a-relationship with Millie had been built on nothing more than teenage hormones, and she didn’t exactly have any hard feelings towards her ex-not-a-girlfriend, but from what Merrick had told her at the Winter Solstice Gala, it seemed as if Millie had continued to walk down the paths which she’d so desperately pursued at Hogwarts.</p><p><em>That makes her an enemy, </em>Daphne knew.</p><p>“Miss Greengrass,” Merrick greeted her, his voice even rougher and more weary than usual, “a pleasant afternoon, is it not?”</p><p>Daphne guessed that even in his youth, Merrick had never been a “handsome” man, but in the middle of his years, he was certainly distinct in appearance; burly, with more muscles than wizards tended to have, which somehow befit his no-nonsense reputation. He styled his facial hair into mutton-chops, and generally looked the very image of a stern, English gentleman.</p><p>“Lord Bulstrode,” Daphne replied, “very much so. I had hoped that it would be.”</p><p>“Would you mind if I spoke with you for a moment?” he asked.</p><p>“Not at all,” Daphne answered smoothly, though she hadn’t exactly prepared for this possibility.</p><p>Merrick lowered himself onto the bench beside her, huffing a bit as he sat down.</p><p>“I must admit,” he spoke, “it is good to see that the wizards of your generation aren’t quite so pig-headed as mine was.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“The Lord Potter-Black,” Merrick grinned, softening his features for a moment, “spoke rather convincingly about the necessity of protecting the rights of <em>witches</em>, in particular.”</p><p><em>Just like we planned, </em>Daphne thought.</p><p>“Did he, now?” she played her part.</p><p>“Humour an old man, would you?” Merrick chuckled, “I don’t much go for gossip, but it’s not exactly a secret that you and Potter are courting. It’s a match I’d approve of, if I were in the position where my opinion mattered, for what it’s worth.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Daphne smiled, “he is a rather formidable man, as it turns out.”</p><p>“That’s an understatement,” Merrick sighed, “I don’t think that your father even realizes how lucky he is that it’s Lord Potter-Black, specifically, who has wound up sitting two Lordships at once.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Daphne hummed, “I suppose so.”</p><p>While she wanted to reply by saying “there’s a lot my father doesn’t realize”, the reality was that Daphne had to portray herself as an actual member of the Greengrass family once more, rather than her true nearly-disowned status.</p><p>“Lady Bones, too,” Merrick continued, “is rather formidable, as you put it.”</p><p>“Oh, very much so,” Daphne agreed.</p><p>
  <em>If anything, “formidable” might be selling her a bit short.</em>
</p><p>“Once more, for what my opinion matters, that’s a match I’d approve of,” Merrick muttered, “both war heroes, aren’t they? Merlin knows that we could use that perspective, there’s precious few who actually experienced what happens when things are allowed to get out of hand.”</p><p>Daphne knew that Merrick regretted his own neutrality in the previous Wizarding Wars, but, more generally, saw the point he was making: Susan and Harry were, indeed, some of the only Heads of House to have actually <em>fought </em>in the last war. Of the forty-some seats in the Wizengamot, fewer than a quarter had any actual experience battling against Dark Magic.</p><p>
  <em>There’s more Heads of House who are related to actual Death Eaters than that. </em>
</p><p>“Well, let’s all hope that things never become ‘out of hand’ like that again,” Daphne mused.</p><p>“Let’s,” Merrick sighed in agreement, “it pains me, but we don’t seem to be capable, as a people, of moving past the same old conflicts.”</p><p>“Perhaps things are changing now,” Daphne spoke neutrally.</p><p>“One step forward,” Merrick shrugged, “one step back. Millie’s got a new girlfriend, did you know?”</p><p>“Oh?” Daphne hadn’t heard this, but didn’t exactly expect to, since Millie didn’t run in any of her circles any more.</p><p>“I don’t like her,” Merrick grumbled, “I’ve met the woman once, she’s some sort of European nobility, German or Austrian or something like that, and she’s utterly unpleasant. Didn’t come out and say it to my face, but certainly hinted towards believing in blood purity too often to ignore.”</p><p>“That’s… unpleasant,” Daphne empathized with him.</p><p>“I don’t know where she got it from,” Merrick sighed, “I never taught her any of that shite, but here we are, my daughter, who loves other women, has somehow become a staunch advocate of ancient marriage traditions.”</p><p>Despite all his gruffness, Merrick was actually a surprisingly emotional man, especially for a Lord of an old Pureblood house. He’d taken a shine to her when she and Millie had been not-together (though he never came out and said he knew, at the time, Daphne had realized that he had figured out the two girls weren’t just close friends), and apparently, wanted to restart that quasi-familial sort of dynamic they’d shared.</p><p>It was also true that he wasn’t a typical Pureblood Lord in many other regards: after all, despite being one of the “Sacred Twenty-Eight”, Merrick had married a Half-Blood woman. Millicent’s mother had died when she was young, and somehow, Millie had started to view her own heritage as a shortcoming.</p><p>“I hope that you don’t make the same mistakes that I did,” Merrick spoke, and started to rise from his seat, “but I thought I’d warn you that even now, some of us seem to be bloody-mindedly committed to ruining our own lives.”</p><p>Across the street, Daphne’s intended meeting – Susan, of course – had exited the Ministry, and was making her way over to the bench where Daphne sat.</p><p>“Lord Bulstrode,” Susan greeted him, “this is a surprise.”</p><p>“Ah, I’ve known Daphne since she was a girl,” Merrick answered, “she’s a good woman, Lady Bones. A fine match for anyone, I believe.”</p><p>He pointedly hadn’t said that she’d be a fine match for any <em>man</em>, Daphne noticed.</p><p>“Good day, Lady Bones, Miss Greengrass,” Merrick tipped his head, and departed without any further conversation.</p><p>“Huh,” Susan spoke, “you still talk to your ex-girlfriend’s dad?”</p><p>“Not really my ex-girlfriend, technically,” Daphne shrugged as she replied, “but, yeah, apparently I do. It sounds as if he feels like he’s lost his daughter, if I’ve got it right.”</p><p>“No offense,” Susan grinned, “but, yeah, not a great loss there. I’m sure you found some good qualities somewhere, but Millicent was awful to everyone who wasn’t a Slytherin when we were kids, and now she’s awful to everyone who isn’t her.”</p><p>“She had a lot of issues to figure out,” Daphne stood from her seat, “it sounds like it didn’t go well.”</p><p>“Shame,” Susan drawled sarcastically, offering her arm to Daphne.</p><p>Where Daphne was dressed in a stereotypically-feminine fashion, Susan had apparently continued her recent trend where she blurred the gender lines of traditional Wizarding apparel: sure, her suit was a very conservative three-piece one that wouldn’t be out of place even to Pureblood standards, but it was, well, a <em>suit</em>.</p><p><em>She definitely pulls it off, though, </em>Daphne judged.</p><p>“Well, my lady,” Susan announced a bit too loudly (for the sake of anyone listening in), “we have dinner plans, do we not?”</p><p>“Indeed, Lady Bones,” Daphne giggled, “lead the way.”</p>
<hr/><p>Susan kept an apartment not far from the Wizengamot, where she wanted to stop by to change her outfit and have a couple drinks before her and Daphne’s “dinner date”.</p><p>Daphne had, therefore, been expecting that when Susan returned from her bedroom, she’d be dressed for a night out; instead, she showed up in a tight t-shirt and comfortable-looking sweat pants.</p><p>“Fuck’s sake,” Susan announced her presence, “thought I was going to die, wearing that vest all day.”</p><p>“You looked quite sharp,” Daphne teased.</p><p>“Thanks,” Susan muttered as she flopped into a chair, “not sure if it’s worth barely being able to fuckin’ breathe, but I guess it sells the image I’m going for, yeah?”</p><p>“Pansy’s the fashion expert,” Daphne answered, “but I thought so!”</p><p>“Oh, trust me, I literally can’t forget that,” Susan ran her hands through her hair after undoing the tight bun she’d been wearing, “she does tend to remind me of the fact every time she speaks to me.”</p><p><em>Well, she’s more than a little threatened by you, </em>Daphne thought.</p><p>Pansy had made no secret of the fact that while she was willing to be civil to Susan, the two women definitely weren’t friends. Daphne had found their dynamic kind of worrying for a while, but she honestly thought it was more amusing than anything else; it sort of reminded her of how Harry and Pansy used to barb each other constantly while not <em>really </em>meaning anything by it.</p><p>“<em>Mmrgh</em>,” Susan groaned as she stretched, “I’m gonna grab a whisky, you want one?”</p><p>Daphne had to tear her eyes away from Susan’s chest before answering.</p><p><em>That’s a rather tight shirt, </em>she thought, <em>but then again…</em> <em>her shirt’s got an awfully tough job to do, holding in all that boob. </em></p><p>She felt her ears heat up a bit as she realized how stupid her own internal monologue sounded. Clearly, her brain was otherwise occupied.</p><p>“That’d be great, thanks,” Daphne answered, as nonchalantly as possible.</p><p>As Susan walked to the apartment’s kitchen, Daphne couldn’t help but let her gaze wander, and immediately noticed that Susan’s sweat pants were equally – <em>distractingly </em>– tight across her arse.</p><p><em>Fuck, I’ve definitely got a type, </em>Daphne chastised herself.</p><p>Even Pansy had adamantly reassured Daphne that she wasn’t concerned if Susan flirted with her <em>(Harry, of course, had no real opinion on the matter),</em> trusting that Daphne would have the common sense not to actually let some casual flirtation develop into anything, especially not in the middle of a political subterfuge campaign relying heavily on Susan playing a specific role.</p><p><em>Of <strong>course</strong> I have common sense, </em>Daphne reassured herself, <em>yes, definitely. That is a thing that I am known for.</em></p><p>Before long, Susan returned with a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses, and Daphne was thankful that she could excuse the ever-so-slight flush on her face as a result of the alcohol.</p><p>
  <em>And nothing else, absolutely not.</em>
</p><p>“Right, so, the day’s report,” Susan grinned, “Harry managed to get the language he thought of voted in, gave a pretty little speech about protecting poor Pureblood girls from devious men, and everything.”</p><p>“That’s fantastic!” Daphne was genuinely thrilled; there were no further opportunities for her father to revise this bill, which meant that he’d either have to abandon it, or accept a less-harmful version than he intended.</p><p>“It was actually a good idea,” Susan chuckled, “from Harry, imagine that? Just changing the wording around a bit, making it so that it didn’t refer to ‘a wife’, but ‘marriage’.”</p><p>“He does have a number of hidden talents,” Daphne giggled.</p><p>The change that Harry came up with would, in fact, serve to protect Pureblood women. Instead of defining a rule where divorce would result in a wife forsaking membership in her house of marriage, the bill now stated that<em> any</em> House membership established via marriage would be forsaken if that marriage ended through divorce.    </p><p><em>It sounds the same on the surface, but carries a dramatically different meaning, </em>Daphne thought with pride, <em>you’re learning how to play this game, Harry.</em></p><p>“So, uh,” Susan frowned, “sounds like Millicent Bulstrode is up to her old tricks, yeah?”</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Daphne agreed, “hopefully not as bad as she had been, but, well… who knows, really.”</p><p>“Might be something to keep in mind,” Susan hummed in thought, “does she have any dirt on you that we need to worry about?”   </p><p>“Hardly,” Daphne laughed, “I did quite an exceptional job of blowing the doors off that scandal when I publicly asked her to marry me, after all.”</p><p>“Y’know,” Susan grinned, “I never really pictured you as the type for big, romantic gestures like that. I guess you’ve got some surprises, too.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Daphne groaned, “I was a teenager, I’ve got an excuse.”</p><p>“Right, definitely,” Susan sipped her drink, “I’m sure you’re completely different now, dating a man known for his restraint and subtlety as you are, mhmm.”</p><p>“Okay, maybe I appreciate the grand gestures a little bit,” Daphne giggled, “but it’s not my fault, honestly. There’s precious little to do for entertainment as a girl being raised in Pureblood culture other than reading <em>terrible </em>romance novels.”</p><p>“Hah!” Susan barked a laugh, “that makes so much sense, really. Harry might not have the brawny muscles popping out of his shirt and all that, but the man can’t help but be an awfully heroic sort, yeah?”</p><p>“I suppose he is,” Daphne agreed.</p><p>“Makes no sense of your taste in women, though.”</p><p>“How’s that?”</p><p>“Well, you’ve got a pretty obvious type, don’t you?” Susan asked.</p><p><em>Fuck, </em>Daphne thought, <em>I didn’t think I was <strong>that </strong>transparent.</em></p><p>“How’s that?” Daphne asked, disguising the break in her voice with a sip of whisky.</p><p>“Daph, you’ve dated Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson,” Susan laughed easily, “it’s pretty clear that, when it comes to women at least, dark-haired Slytherins are your thing.”</p><p>“I haven’t only been with Slytherins,” Daphne protested, “just, well, mostly, I guess.”</p><p>“I mean, I don’t blame you,” Susan continued to tease her, “most of the women I’ve been with were Hufflepuffs too, as it turns out.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Megan Jones,” Daphne sort of vaguely recalled the name Susan spoke, “was my first time, as it wound up. A little while before the Battle of Hogwarts.”</p><p>“I don’t really know her,” Daphne admitted.</p><p>“It didn’t work out,” Susan looked like she lost herself in thought for a moment, “obviously, really.” She finished her drink, a much more characteristic reaction. “Still, though, I’ve branched out a bit from there, yeah? Hooked up with a couple former Gryffindors, even.”</p><p>“You know,” Daphne mused, as Susan poured herself more whisky, “I’m actually kind of surprised that you aren’t one.”</p><p>“Aren’t one what?”</p><p>“A former Gryffindor,” Daphne refilled her own drink, “you’re fucking fearless, and I mean that in the best way, after all.”</p><p>“See, this is why it’s a shame we didn’t know each other earlier,” Susan bemoaned, “well, one of the reasons. I wasn’t always as, uh, ‘fearless’ as I am now, if that’s what you want to call it.”</p><p>“No?” Daphne had a hard time picturing it.</p><p>“Nope,” Susan shrugged, “I mean, I don’t put quite as much stock in the whole ‘your Hogwarts House defines who you are’ thing as most do, to begin with, but I guess that I was closer to a stereotypical ‘Puff when I got sorted in the first place. I mostly wanted to hang out with friends, and the bravest I ever got was when somebody hurt my friends’ feelings.”</p><p>“What changed?” Daphne sipped her drink.</p><p>“Well, two things, really,” Susan, in turn, took a <em>substantial </em>swig of her own whisky, “the first was meeting Harry, and the second was when my family was murdered, yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Daphne’s heart sank, “I’m so sorry, Susan, I wasn’t thinking-“</p><p>“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Susan grinned, and it actually looked mostly genuine, “it’s not like you had any fault in that. But, yeah. Y’know how we all heard stories about the Boy-Who-Lived growing up, right? Actually meeting him, and realizing he was just a boy, it made me reevaluate some things.”</p><p>“Realizing that you could be just as brave as him?”</p><p>“Hah, fuckin’ hardly,” Susan chuckled, “no, realizing that he wasn’t some kind of magical chosen one, at least not because he was Merlin come again or anything like that, but that he was just someone who absolutely fucking <strong>refused </strong>to stand by, at times when everyone else would wait for someone to do something.”</p><p><em>You might be a bit off in that assessment… “Merlin come again” and all, </em>Daphne thought, but didn’t want to interrupt; this was the most that she’d ever heard Susan talk about herself.</p><p>“So, yeah, when my own family was killed? I realized that Harry had been living with that literally his entire life, that my aunt and dad had pretty much gone through the same thing in the last war, and that I couldn’t sit around being sad about it,” Susan finished her drink, “so I decided back then, if I’m the last living member of House Bones, I’m gonna fuckin’ remind people what <strong>Bones </strong>means, yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Daphne hissed a breath, “that’s… that’s actually a pretty fantastic speech, Sue.”</p><p>“Nah,” Susan grinned, “it’s just me rambling, really. Long story short, I guess I have changed, and maybe I don’t fit as a Hufflepuff any more. Gotta say, though, ‘Puffs tend to be pretty good lays.”</p><p>“I suppose I’ll take your word for it,” Daphne snorted a laugh, then laughed even harder in slight embarrassment, “but, I’ve got to protest your earlier claims.”</p><p>“That so?”</p><p>“I haven’t <em>only </em>slept with Slytherin women,” Daphne argued, “I’ve shagged a former Ravenclaw, you know.”</p><p>“Did you, now?” Susan leaned forward with obvious interest, “anyone I know?”</p><p>“Oh, I, uh,” Daphne stammered, “I probably shouldn’t say, actually.”</p><p>“Ah,” Susan nodded, “not out yet, then?”</p><p>“Something like that.”</p><p>“That’s too bad, but I get it,” Susan set her glass down, and leaned back to stretch again, once more drawing Daphne’s eyes to places her gaze <em>shouldn’t </em>have lingered, “hopefully, all this political shite makes the world a bit easier for women like us to be themselves, yeah?”</p><p>“It would be so much easier, generally, if we stopped drawing arbitrary lines to separate each other.”</p><p>“Preach,” Susan chuckled, “still, even with that pretty speech, not sure I’ll ever be convinced to fuck a Slytherin.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Daphne tittered in laughter, “after all, aren’t you taking one out to dinner tonight?”</p><p>“I suppose I am,” Susan stared at Daphne for a moment, and something passed through the room, “speaking of which, I guess I’d better get suitably dressed for being seen negotiating your oh-so-romantic courtship with the Lord Black, shouldn’t I?”</p><p>“Just ‘the Lord Black’, is it?” Daphne smiled.</p><p>“Obviously,” Susan smirked as she rose to her feet, “I’d be the one who’s gonna marry into House Potter, in this scenario we’ve come up with.”</p><p>“That’s what you think,” Daphne teased, “maybe you’d rather go the combined houses route; ‘House Blackbones’ sounds suitably terrifying, after all.”</p><p>“Heh, it fuckin’ does,” Susan agreed, as she disappeared back into the bedroom, “fancy that.”</p>
<hr/><p>As it turned out, Susan dressed <em>very </em>appropriately for the occasion. She’d worn a sleek navy dress, and a cream dress robe with subtle golden highlights overtop, an outfit that landed closer to “traditional” than Daphne’s own did.</p><p><em>And one that very much matched my own outfit, </em>she thought.</p><p>Dinner had been quite lovely for an occasion that was technically part of a scheme, even if Susan and her had intentionally stuck to “proper” topics in public, portraying themselves as two women who were feeling out each other’s suitability to become sister-wives to the Lord Potter-Black.</p><p>There’d been a few times where Daphne had to consciously remind herself that she wasn’t actually on a date, as it turned out.</p><p>Daphne knew that she should probably tamp down on those occasional feelings harder than she had, but – quite honestly with herself – enjoyed Susan’s company too much to chastise herself overmuch. By the time she’d returned to 12 Grimmauld Place in the late evening, she was in good spirits, resolutely ignoring the lingering feeling that there was something that was just a little bit amiss.</p><p>“Hey,” Harry greeted her, sprawled out on the couch in the lounge, “how was your dinner?”</p><p>“Quite nice,” Daphne answered, “I hear that you’ve been quite a successful politician today, love.”</p><p>“Apparently,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m just glad that I managed to actually get something done, for once.”</p><p>“You’ve already done more than your fair share, you know,” Daphne fit herself into the couch beside him, “but, yes, I think that it’s cause to celebrate, we’ve finally won an actually victory over my father.”</p><p>“Well, I’m afraid the celebrations won’t be too exciting,” Harry drawled, “Pans is out with Blaise and Michel tonight, so you’re stuck with just me.”</p><p>“Oh, how I suffer,” Daphne giggled, and leaned down to kiss him.</p><p>“Why, Miss Greengrass,” Harry teased when their lips separated, “I do believe you’ve been drinking.”</p><p>“As it so happens, I have been,” Daphne smirked, “but, rest assured, Mister Potter, I’m not <em>drunk</em>. Indeed, if you were to take me upstairs, I’m quite certain that you wouldn’t be taking advantage of me in the slightest.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Harry grinned, “well, perhaps I should do just that.”</p><p>“Perhaps you should,” Daphne laughed again, then yelped in excitement when Harry stood up, pulling her along with him.</p><p>They made their way to the bedroom in a cheerful half-stumble, half-snogging session sort of way, and fell into bed together with no further delay. Daphne rolled Harry onto his back, and climbed on top of him, peppering kisses against his face and jawline.</p><p>While he hadn’t grown a proper <em>beard </em>quite yet, Harry had been allowing his stubble to grow longer in a way that was reminiscent of past generations of House Black, and Daphne found that she appreciated both the aesthetic and the way it prickled against her lips.</p><p>As she pulled his shirt off, Daphne further appreciated her boyfriend’s looks.</p><p><em>You’re a piece of art, Harry, </em>Daphne thought, <em>I should know, since I’m an artist, after all.</em></p><p>He certainly wasn’t an image of perfection, no Greek statue of a god, but the tattoos scattered over his torso and the various scars they accompanied were still perfect in a very <em>Harry </em>way. He’d gone through a lot of things that would have broken most people, and he hadn’t come out unscathed, but the various cracks in his marble were surface level, when it came down to it.</p><p>“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Harry spoke huskily, staring up at her.</p><p>“So are you,” Daphne purred, as she slipped her dress down from her shoulders.</p><p>Harry obliged her by removing his own pants as she completed the process of shuffling free of her clothing, and Daphne appreciated her boyfriend’s heat as they pressed against each other, skin to skin. His body temperature seemed to run shockingly high at times, and he’d basically shrugged off the surprisingly chill winter they’d just experienced, which had somehow become another trait of his that Daphne was attracted to.</p><p>They kissed for a while longer, their hands trailing over each other, before Daphne crawled up his body a bit further, reaching between their bodies to wrap her hand around his manhood. Harry groaned contentedly as she slowly stroked him, bringing him to full hardness before too long.</p><p>It was Daphne’s turn to moan happily when she lowered her hips, sinking down on Harry’s cock, slowly taking his length in until their bodies met once more, and he was fully inside her.</p><p>“Fuck, I love you,” Daphne breathed, feeling surprisingly emotional that night.</p><p>“I love you too,” Harry replied earnestly, and started to say something else, only for her to cut him off by leaning down to take his lips in hers again.</p><p>Daphne rolled her hips against his, relishing in the way that he filled her, his cock stretching her in the most pleasurable manner.</p><p>When Harry began to meet her motions by pumping his hips upwards, Daphne collapsed even further against him, their chests crushed together and their kisses growing deeper. Harry’s hands clutched her arse, and Daphne encouraged this by increasing the pace at which she ground against him, letting him appreciate the way her arse rippled in his grip.</p><p>As was usual for her, it didn’t take long for Daphne’s first climax to begin building, feeling tingling heat coiling in her belly as Harry’s hips rolled sensually underneath her, his length plunging in and out of her sex.</p><p>“Fuck, Harry,” Daphne hissed for breath, “you’re so fucking good.”</p><p>“I’m just lucky to have you two,” Harry grinned, and then brought one of his hands down to spank her lightly.</p><p>“Fuck!” Daphne quivered around him, as his action set off her orgasm.</p><p>She slowed for a moment, letting the warm feeling spread through her body, before Daphne started to ride him once again. Harry surprised her by taking initiative, wrapping his arms around her and rolling the pair over (prompting an entirely undignified yelp from her) while remaining hilted inside her.</p><p>Harry kissed her as he started to thrust more vigorously, the sounds of their love-making growing louder as he increased the intensity. Daphne tangled her fingers gently in his hair, moaning and gasping little words of encouragement, before she wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs, drawing him in even deeper.</p><p>The new angle worked <em>very </em>well for her, as Harry’s cock plunged into her, sending a second shock of pleasure through her body. He started to thrust even more urgently, no doubt beginning to approach his own climax.</p><p>When Daphne’s legs loosened from pleasure, her hips tilted back, and Harry’s cock popped free from her with the motion, before <em>slapping </em>against her pussy as it rebounded.</p><p>“Fffuck,” Daphne moaned, finding that the unintended result was one she <em>very much </em>enjoyed.</p><p>“I’m pretty close,” Harry teased, as she reached between them to grip his cock firmly, pressing his length along her dripping pussy, rather than angling him back inside of her.</p><p>“Keep going,” Daphne begged, “that feels really good.”</p><p>Obediently, Harry started to thrust again, sawing the underside of his cock back and forth over her pussy, the head of his cock rubbing against her clit with every thrust forwards.</p><p>She was lucky in so many ways, but one of the things that Daphne felt most grateful for in that moment was how she found both internal and external stimulation <em>extremely </em>gratifying.</p><p>“God!” Daphne gasped, when one of Harry’s more vigorous thrusts dragged the head of his cock between her pussy lips, and over the underside of her clit.</p><p>She came <em>hard </em>from the action, and the evidence of her orgasm was obvious, as she sprayed her wetness over Harry’s cock.</p><p>“Fuck!” Harry grunted, and Daphne felt jets of his cum covering his belly, a couple of strands shooting far enough to hit her breasts.</p><p>She giggled, absolutely content, and craned her head up to kiss him, before he flopped over onto his back beside her.</p><p>“I love how I keep finding new things I enjoy,” Daphne hummed, after a few moments, “apparently that sort of stimulation works <em>really </em>well.”</p><p>“I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it,” Harry teased, “but I think I prefer being inside you.”</p><p>“That’s quite fantastic too,” Daphne agreed, and the pair laughed together.</p><p><em>This was definitely the right kind of celebration, </em>Daphne stretched out, feeling warm and happy, <em>just a perfect day, really. </em></p>
<hr/><hr/><p>
  <strong>THREE</strong>
</p><p>A ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ. Exᴘʀᴇssᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏs; Tʀɪɴɪᴛʏ, ᴛʜᴇ Rᴜʟᴇ ᴏғ Tʜʀᴇᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ Tʜʀᴇᴇ Fᴀᴛᴇs, ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡs. Tʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴀɴɢʟᴇ ɪs ᴀ sɪɢɪʟ ᴏғ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀs ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs, ᴏʀ ᴛᴏ sᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.      </p>
<hr/><hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are coming to a head</p><p>I'm hoping that a lot of the little subtleties in this chapter came across properly - the political plotline is actually fully in motion now, rather than just being limited to plans and schemes, but this results in characters engaging in more hints and insinuations rather than outright saying the intent behind their words.</p><p>Also, some happy fluffy Daphne for once ;P</p><p>Let me know what you think! I'm also curious if anyone has figured out the end-of-chapter segments yet :^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nerve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Susan considers the current environment, of politics, more concerning matters, and her life</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Susan</span>
</p><p>She drummed her fingers against the outside of her thigh as Robards read through the report she’d assembled. Susan wasn’t exactly <em>convinced </em>that what she’d uncovered was significant, but it was worth considering, if nothing else. She knew that sometimes details which seemed inconsequential might turn over a stone that led to something more damning, and hoped that this might wind up turning into an actual lead towards the suspected Dark Magic ring still operating in Magical Britain.</p><p>“Hmm,” Robards hummed, and set the report down, “interesting. Though this is largely hearsay, I agree that it’s worth discussing. Between you and I, can you elaborate on the role you think Millicent Bulstrode might play?”</p><p>“Well, I’m admittedly biased,” Susan shrugged, “Bulstrode was pretty much one of the worst of the worst at Hogwarts, she was right chuffed to be on Umbridge’s inquisition squad, then later to be an enforcer for the Carrow siblings.”</p><p>“Yes, indeed,” Robards nodded, “she was under probation for five years post-war, I believe the longest term of any of those found complicit, but not guilty of crimes themselves.”</p><p>“By all accounts,” Susan continued, “she’s improved little since the war ended. I’ve seen first-hand that some have managed to turn back to the right side,” she grumbled internally, “like Gregory Goyle, for example. Spotless record since his probation ended.”</p><p>“Technically speaking,” Robards tapped a finger against the pages, “Millicent Bulstrode hasn’t been charged with anything, either.”</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Susan grumbled externally this time, “promoting blood purity rhetoric isn’t a <em>crime</em>, just frowned upon these days.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Robards agreed, “which, given the rest of your report, I’ll admit, seems somewhat… ill-advised, given her apparent status.”</p><p>“Word is that she’s a half-blood,” Susan shrugged, “Lord Bulstrode’s marriage was one of those that were held off-the-record, back in the day, but I got Savage to dig into the birth records, and it’s pretty likely that Millicent’s mother started out as an Oprington or Gage.”</p><p><em>Both families with Wizengamot seats, </em>Susan recalled, <em>though both in elected positions, rather than inherited. </em></p><p>“Why is it,” Robards pondered, “that a half-blood woman, one who seems to prefer the company of other women on top of that, would find blood purity an appealing concept?”</p><p>“Eh,” Susan shrugged, “Purebloods might be predisposed to being utter prats, but they’re still just people like you and I, after all. Off the record, Daphne Greengrass has speculated that Millicent wound up blaming her own failings on her blood status, and latched on to the belief as a means of excusing herself from personal responsibility.”</p><p>“Defense mechanisms do seem to be a universal aspect of human nature. When it comes to her lover, then,” Robards was as technically-correct in his terminology as ever, “that’s an interesting family history in its own right. Miss Adelheid Sauer, a member of an old German Wizarding family, one that would likely be considered ‘Most Noble’ by our measures.”</p><p>“Yup,” Susan huffed, “and just like our Purebloods, there’s a fair bit of suspicion around that family, rumours and whispers that they’ve practiced Blood Magic and other Dark shite for generations.”</p><p>“Oh?” Robards smirked at her, “that’s not in the report.”</p><p>“Everything on paper is the absolute, verified truth,” Susan grinned, “or at least a claim with some kind of paper trail. I’ve got some sources, but nobody at the German <em>Zaubererrat, </em>sadly.”</p><p>Magical Germany had a governing body vaguely analogous to the Wizengamot, though more focused on enforcing laws than writing them.</p><p>“Pray tell,” Robards sipped his coffee.</p><p>“I became acquainted with one Leonhardt von Krafft last year,” Susan smirked, “who, as it turns out, is another rare example of someone from a shitty, Dark family that genuinely wants to fight for the good guys for a change.”</p><p>“Right,” Robards raised an eyebrow, “you duelled him, when he stood in for Humphrey Burke, did you not?”</p><p>“Exactly,” Susan answered, “fuckin’ good scrap, too. Krafft knows his way around a wand, that’s for sure. Anyways, I got in touch with him again not long ago, and he had some interesting stories, to say the least. That’s what lead to,” she pointed at a part of her report for emphasis, “the note about possibly investigating Wizards who’ve been traveling to Europe recently.”</p><p>“It seems rational,” Robards confirmed, “to keep an eye on those who travel to regions that seem to be growing awfully fond of Grindelwald’s legacy all over again. I wouldn’t classify Magical Germany as a hostile nation, by any regard, but much like our own struggles, they certainly have lingering issues with families whose ancestors were staunch Grindelwaldists.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Susan continued, “as much as I hate to say it, it sounds like Burke’s visit was mostly on the up-and-up. He probably invited Leonhardt to visit Magical Britain just because he was trying to make himself sound influential here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Burke, Selwyn, and Yaxley came up with their little ‘three duels in one night’ scheme after von Krafft demonstrated his skills at a local duelling club.”</p><p>“I concur, it seems unlikely that Humphrey Burke would have diligently submitted his travel papers and planned destinations if he had nefarious purposes for his trip,” Robards paused in thought for a moment, “which, in turn, means that I’m not sure if I can commit resources to investigating Adelheid Sauer, either.”</p><p>Susan wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear her boss shoot her recommendations down like this, but she wasn’t surprised.</p><p>“Miss Sauer arrived by perfectly normal means of transportation,” Robards explained, “and according to the timeline you’ve put down, the relationship which developed between her and Miss Bulstrode could easily be explained by chance alone.”</p><p>“Could be,” Susan shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting this would be a smoking gun, but it does seem a bit odd that there’s been two recent visitors, from German Wizarding nobility families both, who wound up linking up with families adjacent to Death Eaters once they got here.”</p><p>“It could be that old, Pureblood families tend to stick together,” Robards argued.</p><p>“Could be,” Susan grumbled, “but seems a bit fuckin’ unlikely to me, that our Purebloods start acting up again at the same time as the Neo-Grindelwaldists start recruiting again in Europe.”</p><p>“You think there’s a common cause?”</p><p>“I think that they’re in communication with each other, at least,” Susan concluded, “I can’t say if ours are getting directions from theirs, or if they’re just part of a little ‘Evil Wizards Tea Party Club’, but I think there’s been too many occasions when they seem to have the same idea at the same time for it to be a coincidence.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Robards hummed in thought again, “very well. I’m assigning Savage to your command full-time, select two other Aurors to round out your team, then start looking into wizards and witches who seem to have a few too many connections to the continent.”</p><p>“Will do,” Susan nodded, rising from her seat.</p><p>“And, Miss Bones?”</p><p>“Yeah, boss?” Susan grinned at him.</p><p>“Good work,” Robards smiled wanly in return, “I know that this might not be what you imagined doing here, but you’ve already proved yourself a valuable asset to the DMLE.”</p><p>“Gotta live up to the legacy of House Bones, yeah?” Susan chuckled, “I’ll get you the names of the other Aurors by the end of the week.”</p><p>“Very good.”</p>
<hr/><p>Susan groaned as she stretched out in her chair, yet another sheet of numbers and figures in front of her. This wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured her life when she was younger, but she supposed that it was inevitable that she’d wind up spending most of her time on <em>responsibilities</em>, rather than doing anything fun.</p><p><em>Forty-plus hours a week at the Ministry, </em>Susan recounted her days, <em>at least twenty hours a week handling House Bones and the fucking Wizengamot, and a few hours here and there training my magic. </em></p><p>It wasn’t a schedule which left much free time for diversions, but she was holding out some hope that things would get a bit easier once Harry, Daphne, Hermione, and herself managed to defeat Cyrus Greengrass (in the political arena, if nowhere else).</p><p>Susan also kind of hoped that she’d eventually uncover something that could be used to go after Cyrus in the legal arena – <em>even better if it’s in the duelling arena </em>– but her initial investigations into that possibility had quickly revealed absolutely nothing incriminating.</p><p>Cyrus was an utter dick-head, but he was a competent one: he’d navigated through two Wizarding Wars without ever selling out to the Dark, but simultaneously without ever committing himself to the Light. Instead, it seemed as if “influence” was the only ideology that he adhered to, his name popping up on all sorts of entirely-above-board committees and ownership groups over the years.</p><p>On the other hand, she was entirely unconvinced that Cyrus’s new allies were as “innocent” as he was. Lords Selwyn and Yaxley both had relatives who had been literal Death Eaters, while Burke’s uncle had been one of the founders of the notorious <em>Borgin and Burke’s</em>, a known dealer of contraband Dark materials.</p><p><em>At least they’ve helped make me rich, </em>Susan thought with a smirk.</p><p>The thirty-thousand Galleons those three Lords had wagered on their duels with her and Harry had significantly improved the financial situation of House Bones. Her family had fallen into the “land rich, money poor” category of “wealthy” for several generations, which meant that, unlike the members of many old Houses, Susan didn’t have the advantage of various investments and trusts which earned money just by existing.</p><p>Her current task was part of her attempt to literally change her fortune: a list of various stocks and holdings that her accountant had recommended, means to establish these self-sustaining sources of income. Susan didn’t really have much interest in trying to become <em>rich</em>, but she understood the reality that wealth was simply another weapon to wield, and didn’t intend to find herself unarmed in that arena, either.</p><p>Susan decided that she’d stared at more than enough paper for the day, and finished the rest of her drink, then wandered towards her bed. It was well past “evening” already, and she supposed that she’d need to get her beauty sleep, considering that she had a “date” with Harry tomorrow.</p><p><em>Shouldn’t’ve listened to Hermione to be seen in public for this one, </em>Susan grumbled, <em>I’d much rather just get drunk with Harry in the comfort of my home. </em></p><p>Her and Harry had become good friends shortly after the war ended, and close friends once they discovered that they were two of the only people who could keep up with each others’ drinking habits (<em>that weren’t Seamus Finnigan</em>), but they’d never hung out quite as frequently as they had in recent times.</p><p>Even though it was simply part of a political scheme, Susan was quickly finding herself growing used to it; Harry was a lot like her, in a lot of ways, and it was always a good time to have someone around who understood the various venting and complaining about how utterly <em>moronic </em>Wizarding culture could be.</p><p>He was also as deeply immersed in Muggle culture as she was, a rarity among wizards. Susan had maintained those interests due to the influence of her Muggle grandparents on her mum’s side (<em>passed away through non-magical causes a while back, </em>Susan recalled), while Harry’s interest was because he’d basically been raised as a Muggle for his early childhood.</p><p>Susan found the non-magical world kind of comforting lately (considering how absolutely <em>bullshit </em>its magical counterpart was being), so it was nice to share that with someone who she didn’t have to explain various cultural references to every five minutes.</p><p><em>For the fact that Hermione is literally Muggleborn, </em>Susan thought, <em>she basically lives solely in the Magical world at this point.</em></p><p>As Susan laid down in bed, she was struck by the realization that she was probably stuck in a loop of reminiscing about her friendships because she was – to be honest with herself – <em>pretty fuckin’ lonely lately. </em></p><p>She didn’t resent the fact that she had to act like Harry’s girlfriend in public; just like she’d been thinking about, it wasn’t exactly a struggle to spend time with him. As she’d previously discussed with him, it also wasn’t like she had the free time to actually <em>date </em>some girl anyways, but this rationalization didn’t do much to solve one of her lingering frustrations.</p><p>
  <em>I really, desperately need to get laid.</em>
</p><p>Susan figured she could probably get away with picking up a Muggle girl (she’d done it before), but even that ran the risk of some enterprising “Half-Blood” catching sight of her, reporting it to the Daily Prophet, and ruining the whole “betrothed” scheme that her and Harry were running.</p><p>Magical women, of course, were right out.</p><p>She’d already done her introspection about the role that Daphne Greengrass had in her life, but Susan was becoming more and more concerned that her little crush on the blonde was becoming much more substantial than it should. Her “date” with Daph had absolutely been the highlight of last week, and that was even considering that they’d achieved a victory over Cyrus the same day.</p><p>
  <em>It certainly doesn’t help that I’m way too fucking pent up.</em>
</p><p>Susan waved her hand, and her box of toys emerged from its hiding spot under her bed. She idly grabbed a couple, weighing her options for alleviating some of this stress, before she groaned out loud, tossed both of the dildos back into the box, and sent it back into storage.</p><p><em>Getting myself off is only going to make it worse, </em>she feared, <em>come on, Bones, you can do this. Only a couple more months, then you’ll shag the brains out of a few gorgeous women, and forget about all this angsty woe-is-me shite. </em></p><p>She tossed and turned for the next while.</p><p>
  <em>Probably just fuckin’ wind up fantasizing about Daph, and that’s not gonna be any kind of help.</em>
</p><p>Susan eventually, finally, fell into a frustrated sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>She walked in to <em>Boddington’s, </em>a trendy new restaurant in Diagon Alley. It was fancier than most of the places she’d usually go, so she’d dressed the part; lots of jewelry, high leather boots, and a deep purple cocktail dress underneath her tight black peacoat.</p><p>It amused her that the restaurant, all classy and hoity-toity, shared a name with a Muggle beer meant to be drank in huge quantities.</p><p>The maître d’ took her name, and guided her towards the back of the restaurant, where Harry was somewhat uncomfortably perched in the premium, corner booth. He looked pretty sharp too, in a charcoal suit, a pale blue shirt, and a purple tie which he’d somehow managed to match to her dress.</p><p><em>I see Parkinson’s hand at play there, </em>Susan mused.</p><p>“Lady Bones,” Harry spoke on noticing her, standing from his seat as etiquette demanded, “good evening.”</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” she replied, unbuttoning her coat and hanging it beside the table, “a good eve to you, as well.”</p><p>She saw Harry’s eyes widen when she pulled her coat off, and Susan had to resist the urge to break into laughter at his reaction. Sure, her dress was technically well within the bounds of “formal”, but it had a <em>deep </em>neckline.</p><p>Susan wasn’t blind to the way she was built; at Hogwarts, she’d had moments of insecurity about her curves, so unlike the sleek and slender frame that traditional Wizarding culture preferred, but she’d got past those silly fears a long time ago.</p><p><em>Besides, Harry, </em>she amused herself with her thoughts, <em>it might help to sell the fiction that we’re actually attracted to each other if you keep getting caught staring at my tits. </em></p><p>“Hey, mate,” she muttered quietly, as she joined him at the table, “how’re you?”</p><p>“Same old,” Harry replied, “you?”</p><p>“Brilliant,” Susan chuckled, “looking up now, though, that I’m getting wined and dined by such a high-class Lord and all.”</p><p>“Heh,” Harry grinned as a waiter approached, “yeah, there’s definitely been worse schemes we’ve pulled off, hey?”</p><p>As was convention, Harry ordered for both of them <em>(she’d told him her own order beforehand, to avoid the whole “uh, erm, um, ahhh” routine Harry pulled when he was uncertain of something</em>), a steak for himself, and a French-style chicken dish for her.</p><p>When they were in private again, Harry leaned across to murmur to her.</p><p>“See the bloke sitting at the table behind you?” he whispered, “on your eight o’ clock.”</p><p>She subtly took a glimpse in that direction as she pretended to fold her napkin across her lap, and her nerves sparked with a bit of worry as she tried to identify the man Harry referred to. He wasn’t exactly a subtle-looking sort, wearing a bright lime-green shirt with no tie, and the man’s date was equally unsubtle, a blonde that Susan didn’t recognize, her hair piled up in an enormous beehive.</p><p>“Can’t place him,” Susan answered, trying to figure out which Pureblood house he might be from, and if he was a threat.</p><p>“One of the lead writers of <em>Witch Weekly, </em>him,” Harry smirked, “I dare say that we’ll find an article written about us in the next issue.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose you’ll have to actually pull off acting like we’re on a date,” Susan grinned in return, “master of romance that you are, and all.”</p><p>“I can be charming,” Harry argued, “though I’ll admit when I’m outmatched. Their last issue had a two-page spread declaring you and Daph a new ‘power duo’, y’know.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Susan hadn’t read it; she didn’t have the time to judge the success of their ploy when it came to gossip rags.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “something like ‘these two women are as formidable as they are beautiful’, and that sort of thing.”</p><p>“Well, they got it halfway right, in that case,” Susan joked, “Daph’s gorgeous, yeah, and I’ll kick the shite out of anyone who says I’m not fuckin’ formidable.”</p><p>Harry’s laughter was genuine, and it didn’t take Susan long to join him. By the time that the waiter returned with their drinks (a bottle of ludicrously-expensive red wine), her good spirits were actually genuine, with no need to fake it.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re with us, y’know,” Harry hummed, “I still kind of think that I cocked it up, proclaiming that we’re basically betrothed, and all that, but I’d be even more useless if I didn’t have you coaching me on how to actually do this whole ‘Head of House’ business.”</p><p>“You’d be fine, you prat,” Susan retorted, “when’s the last time that you <em>didn’t </em>turn out to be kind of amazing at something you tried?”</p><p>“Fuck, Sue,” Harry sighed, “you’ve <em>seen </em>me dance. My greatest accomplishment there is that you’ve still got all your toes.”</p><p>Susan laughed, and it came out sounding uncomfortably like a giggle.</p><p>The rest of dinner was equally enjoyable (<em>as was the second bottle of wine, and the third…</em>), and by the end of the night there were times that Susan almost forgot that this was all for show, and not her and Harry just enjoying each others’ company like usual.</p><p><em>Then again, </em>she remembered, <em>I guess if this was for real, it wouldn’t be a date, yeah?</em></p><p>When the time came for them to depart the restaurant, the <em>Witch Weekly </em>writer was conspicuously lingering near the exit, clearly hoping for some sort of scoop. It was an opportunity to really solidify their publicly-portrayed courtship, as far as Susan saw it.</p><p>“Oi,” she whispered to Harry, “put your arm around me.”</p><p>“Eh?” he muttered in reply.</p><p>“C’mon, numbskull,” Susan sidled closer to him, “act like we’re betrothed, yeah?”</p><p>She had to stop herself from jumping when Harry’s arm wrapped around her, his hand resting partway between her hip and the small of her back.</p><p><em>Fucking hell, </em>Susan thought, <em>it really has been too long, if <strong>Harry’s </strong>making me squirm like that. </em></p><p>They continued a light, utterly meaningless conversation as they walked outside, and Susan swore that she caught the “subtle” flash of a hidden camera coming from the Witch Weekly bloke’s direction. As they walked outside, making their way to the Floo station, Susan realized that Harry hadn’t bothered to move his arm.</p><p>And she… didn’t mind?</p><p>“Hey, Harry?” she started.</p><p>“Yeah?” he replied.</p><p>“I’ve, uh, got something I should probably tell you,” Susan came to a realization.</p><p>“What’s that?” he looked perplexed, and, as if realizing he had limbs, moved his arm away from her.</p><p>“It’s private,” she reiterated, “c’mere.”</p><p>She stepped closer to him as if they were embracing each other, wrapping her arms around his torso, and after a moment of surprise, Harry returned the gesture.</p><p>“It’s nothing certain,” Susan whispered, “and there’s, well, there’s a fucking lot that I can’t talk about yet, but I want you to keep your head up, okay?”</p><p>“What’ve you found?” Harry’s reply was terse, and focused, but not snappy towards her.</p><p>“Again, can’t really talk about it quite yet,” Susan still kind of hated this secrecy, but it was better than risking inspiring Harry to storm Azkaban because she’d revealed Rabastan Lestrange’s cult to him, “really, just a few kinda worrying signs. Don’t have any names, don’t have any specifics, but… yeah. Keep your wand close.”</p><p>“You too, in that case,” Harry muttered.</p><p>She took a breath to steady her nerves, and realized that Harry smelled <em>great</em>; he was wearing some sort of woody and musky scent, with a hint of a <em>fiery </em>note of some kind.</p><p>“Are you wearing cologne?” she teased.</p><p>“Well, yeah,” Harry spoke, “I’ve gotta look my best too, don’t I?”</p><p>“You’re doing great, mate,” Susan chuckled, and leaned her head up so that, to an outside perspective, it would have looked like she’d kissed him, “dinner was actually pretty fantastic, by the way. I needed the break.”</p><p>“Well, let me know if you need another,” Harry offered, “Merlin knows I’ll need a good dozen drinks after the vote next week.”</p><p>“Maybe I will,” she murmured, “night, Harry.”</p><p>“Night, Sue,” he answered.</p><p>They separated, and exchanged the ritualized, less personal forms of saying goodbye to each other, then Harry wandered off into the night.</p><p><em>I really, really hope that there’s not another war on the horizon, </em>Susan thought sadly, <em>you deserve some time to relax, dammit. </em></p>
<hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>TWO</strong>
</p><p>A ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ; ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀɪʀs ᴏʀ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs. Sᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ Mᴏᴏɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀʟsᴏ Dᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ Nɪɢʜᴛ. A ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛᴡᴏ Sᴏᴜʟs, ʙᴜᴛ Lɪғᴇ sᴛᴀɴᴅs ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ. Tᴡᴏ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs ғᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ʟɪɴᴇ: ᴀ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴏʀ ᴅɪᴠɪsɪᴏɴ.</p>
<hr/>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are changing</p><p>This was a bit of a glimpse back into Susan's perspective, and helps to reveal some of the other stuff going on in the background which aren't purely political in nature. It's also another little insight into how well (or not) she's handling her role in the conspiracy, since she doesn't often wind up expressing her feelings to members of the trio.</p><p>There's quite a few little hints at future plot directions - I wonder if anyone found them ;^)</p><p>Let me know what you think! As always, I like seeing comments on these chapters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Ribcage (Daphne/Harry/Pansy)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The divorce bill goes to vote, and the trio each deal with secret-keeping</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>As was tradition, the Wizengamot droned on and on through various introductions and calls to order, until the only purpose of the entire session was finally tabled; the vote on Cyrus’s divorce bill was finally being held.</p><p>Harry started paying closer attention, and opened the enchanted notepad that Hermione had provided him. While the vote count would later be made a matter of public record, Harry knew it was important to take note of his impressions the day of.</p><p>For these sorts of matters, votes were held in ascending order of “status”, as it were; the Wizengamot members with the fewest number of votes to their name went first, and those with the greatest individual powers would vote last. By virtue of his two seated Lordships, this meant that Harry himself would always hold the final vote.</p><p>The initial stages of the vote went about the way that Harry expected: those with elected seats (and a single vote to their name) were just about evenly split between “Yea” and “Nay”. Considering that their families were also evenly split between progressive newcomers, allies to older and “nobler” houses, and wealthy families with no strongly-held political stances, this was what Daphne and Hermione had anticipated.</p><p>As the first of the “ancestral seat” families started to issue their votes, it also went according to their predictions; most of these families were considered “ancient” or “most ancient”, but not “noble”. This tended to be the status associated with more open-minded wizards (like the Weasleys), from what Ron had both explained to him. Accordingly, most of these votes went “Yea”, since the divorce bill had become a genuinely progressive piece of legislation following Harry’s modifications to it.</p><p>At the point when it came time for the Noble Lords and Ladies to vote, Harry found more interesting observations to make, as some votes went against what he would have predicted ahead of time: Lord Flint voted “Yea” (Marcus Flint’s father, usually more concerned with “tradition” than anything else), while Lady Zabini (Blaise’s mum, who Harry had recently come to loathe) voted “Nay”.</p><p>Harry found it <em>very </em>interesting that the Lords Selwyn and Yaxley both voted “Nay” as well; while this bill had indeed started to serve a different purpose compared to how Cyrus had first designed it, it was still Cyrus’s bill, and their votes against it seemed to break with their allegiance to his other goals.</p><p><em>Can’t get too cocky, </em>Harry reminded himself, <em>this might even be a ploy to make me think that their alliance has broken, only to fall back into rank together when I least expect it. </em></p><p>It was also a gesture that was basically meaningless: the bill had enough votes to pass by the time it came to Lord Yaxley (<em>“Most Ancient and Noble” that he was</em>), and the “Yea” votes had obtained an outright majority by the time Lord Selwyn (<em>“Ancient and Most Noble”</em>) put his six votes against it.</p><p>Nonetheless, Harry took note of the scowl that crossed Selwyn’s face, and the grumbling resignation in Yaxley’s voice when they’d each voted “Nay”.</p><p>Cyrus, the only other Lord considered <em>both </em>Most Ancient and Most Noble other than Harry himself (as Lord Black – the Potters weren’t a “Most Ancient” family, apparently), voted second-to-last, and of course he voted “Yea” for his own bill, which had functionally already passed.</p><p><em>Might as well make it official, </em>Harry thought, as he rose from his seat.</p><p>“The Houses Black and Potter,” Harry announced, letting his voice boom with a bit of magical showmanship, “vote ‘Yea’.”</p><p>It would be an effective demonstration to various neutral or “traditional, but open to some amount of change” seats: Houses Selwyn and Yaxley had broken away from Houses Greengrass and Potter-Black.</p><p>Of course, the fact that these “alliances” were actually entirely opposite – compared to the public fiction that Daphne, Pansy, and Sue had worked so diligently to craft – was a secret that needed to remain hidden to stay effective.</p><p>A sigil started to glow on the desk in front of Harry’s seat, a little mark indicating that he’d been summoned to speak with the Chief Warlock (Cyrus Greengrass, of course) following the conclusion of this Wizengamot session. He supposed that this wasn’t entirely unexpected, but he still wasn’t looking forward to it.</p><p>The final closing statements passed in a blur, until Harry found himself walking into the Chief Warlock’s office, behind the chambers of the Wizengamot proper.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” Cyrus greeted him.</p><p>“Lord Greengrass,” Harry muttered in return.</p><p>“Whoever has taught you politics,” Cyrus spoke, “they’ve done admirably. I must admit, your performance has been much more competent than I had expected.”</p><p>“Dumbledore was a decent politician,” Harry snarked, “Chief Warlock for a number of years, yeah?”</p><p>“His greatest achievements were to just barely prevent Fudge from destroying our society from one side, and to keep Malfoy <em>somewhat </em>in line at the other,” Cyrus sighed, “don’t lessen yourself with that comparison, Potter.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Harry hummed in response, leaving his thoughts about any comparison to Dumbledore unsaid.</p><p>“We do not have to be enemies, you and I,” Cyrus grumbled, “we’re both seeking to defend the future of Magical Britain, you understand that, don’t you?”</p><p>“I think I’d disagree on what counts as ‘defending’,” Harry replied, “and what would just be locking us into yet another Blood Purist war in a few decades.”</p><p>“A loathsome sort,” Cyrus… <em>agreed</em>? “but, sadly, not an unpopular view amongst the families who wield immense power, despite the fact that their own greatest achievements have been limited to ‘good breeding’.”</p><p>“What do you want, Cyrus?” Harry was past the point of subtleties, and didn’t think playing that game would end well for him, anyways.</p><p>“It’s like I said, Potter-Black,” Cyrus fixed him with a glare, “we don’t actually have to be enemies. You’ve handled my divorce bill quite admirably, managing to strip it of its fangs, and leaving it as a victory to the reformists. If you’d be willing to tolerate some concessions in the other direction, we can make the ‘Rights and Responsibilities’ bill into an effective piece of legislation.”</p><p>“Concessions such as?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“Keeping half-blood men away from Noble Lordships,” Cyrus sighed, “there are many who are just <em>barely </em>willing to tolerate those who are not ‘pure of blood’ to maintain ancestral seats, but allowing men of poor breeding to marry into these ancient lines? They’ll never tolerate it.”</p><p>“<strong>I’m </strong>a half-blood,” Harry reminded him.</p><p>“No, you’re a Lord of House Black,” Cyrus responded, “that would be categorically impossible. You’d do well, Lord Potter-<strong><em>Black,</em></strong>” he emphasized the latter, “to educate yourself on matters of family magic. You may not see it, but there are actually purposes behind the rigorous maintenance of family lines, ones which go beyond simple-minded prejudice against Muggle-born Wizardkind.”</p><p>“I will not accept giving the Wizengamot control over every individual marriage,” Harry argued “doing so would give the traditional families an iron grasp over the whole of Magical Britain.”</p><p>“Is that not better,” Cyrus argued, “than to leave Magical Britain a chaotic, unpredictable mess, where any petty Lord who’s found themselves with an important name might think to declare themselves the new Voldemort?”</p><p>Harry blinked. He hadn’t heard anyone outside of his friends use that name in a long time.</p><p>“Your plan to prevent blood purists from seizing power,” Harry responded, “is to hand them power instead?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Cyrus huffed, “merely to accept the reality that <em>some </em>of their viewpoints may be more worth considering than others.”</p><p>“I refuse,” Harry made to turn, to leave the room.</p><p>“You should be aware,” Cyrus spoke, “that as a Lord of two Houses, the ‘responsibilities’ of Lordship might weigh heavily, if you are unwilling to cooperate, to help pass a reasonable, rational bill instead.”</p><p>“I don’t care about what I have to put up with,” Harry turned around this time, “I’m not letting the Wizengamot take control over innocent peoples’ lives.”</p><p>He stormed away, the victory from earlier in the day a bit less sweet.</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>Daphne sat primly at the table, delicately sipping from her tea cup.</p><p>This ghastly event had been organized by Bertie Higgs’ wife, the invitations privately issued following a conversation at his brother’s gallery – <em>Frame and Stroke </em>– where her artwork had been so prominently displayed.</p><p>The group of various women represented a range of different Houses; several, such as Lady Higgs herself, were wives of men who had been elected to Wizengamot seats, while a couple of others – Narcissa Black and Adrienne Zabini – were members of Noble Houses in their own right.</p><p>Susan had been invited to this tea party, but had declined. Publicly, she was “occupied with matters of House Bones”, but privately, Daphne suspected that Susan had recognized she wouldn’t have been able to get through the event without challenging someone to a duel.</p><p>Still, Daphne wished she was here; not only because Susan’s support in this scheme was absolutely essential, but because her company was always enjoyable.</p><p>“Do you think,” the Lady Beaufort, a small, “ancient” family, “that with the return of multiple marriages, the ancient position of Consort may be reinstated as well?”</p><p><em>It’d certainly benefit your House if they were, </em>Daphne thought, <em>your daughter is too low-status to marry into a traditional family as is, but as a second wife or consort? She’d be much more appealing.</em></p><p>“I would hardly think that the Lord Potter-Black could be convinced to tolerate such an outdated tradition,” Narcissa interjected, sipping her tea even more delicately than Daphne managed, “after all, he is an outspoken proponent for protecting the rights of Noble daughters, not just sons.”</p><p>“Such a noble man,” Lady Zabini sighed, “I mean this in the sense of his character, though, of course, he is also the Noblest of all Lords in addition.”</p><p>“It could be,” Lady Beaufort argued, “that there are actually benefits for our daughters, if they were allowed to pursue the position of Lady Consort. I understand that marriage lines are awfully complex, but there are precious few men of note who have remained single…”</p><p>“Why, Lady Beaufort,” Zabini smirked, “one might almost think that you are offering your daughter as a candidate for a certain noble Noble Lord.”</p><p>Adrienne Zabini turned to fix her gaze on Daphne, and she felt her blood start to run a bit cooler in her veins.</p><p>“I certainly cannot speak for the Lord Potter-Black,” Daphne said, “but for my own view, I rather suspect that there are no plans to reinstate the consort title, and certainly the ancient title of ‘concubine’ is still correctly seen as the mistake that it was.”</p><p>“Ah, titles are such a complicated matter,” Zabini nodded, “you have some experience with such matters, do you not, <em>Miss </em>Greengrass?”</p><p>“Why, Lady Zabini,” Daphne spoke coolly, “whatever do you mean?”</p><p>“Oh, far be it for me to pry into private family matters,” Zabini continued, “it just seems awfully, well, <em>complicated</em>, that you are no longer Heiress Greengrass, and yet Houses Potter-Black and Greengrass find themselves in such a closely-knit alliance. I do hope that it has not been overly troubling for you.”</p><p>“There’s no need for you to trouble yourself either, my Lady,” Daphne answered, “the matters of House Greengrass are well accounted-for.”</p><p>“I suppose that it makes some sense,” Adrienne continued needling, “that your Lord father would not wish to navigate the difficulties involved in combining three Most Ancient, Most Noble Houses such as he and Lord Potter-Black possess. Oh, pardon me, I misspoke; House Black is merely ‘Noble’, hmm?”</p><p>“You misspeak again,” Narcissa interjected, “with all the titles and recognitions that Lord Black has amassed, our House is indeed one of the Most Noble.”</p><p><em>Thank goodness that Harry publicly proclaimed his status as Lord Black <strong>before </strong>he got all those medals, </em>Daphne recollected, <em>it wound up multiplying the number of votes he gained from that new status.</em></p><p>“Ah, you know me, Narcissa,” Lady Zabini drawled, “I have ever-so-difficult a time holding my tongue. A trait that serves a Noble Lady well, in my estimate.”</p><p><em>She’s kind of like Pansy, </em>Daphne mused, <em>if Pansy was at her absolute worst <strong>all</strong> the time, and still bought in to all the shite that she used to believe in.</em></p><p>“I do see your point, Margaret,” Zabini continued, addressing Lady Beaufort this time, “given that some families are able to manipulate their lines of inheritance so cleverly, it is almost as if they managed to recreate the ‘Consort’ position, without actually titling it such.”</p><p>“Do elaborate, Lady Zabini,” Daphne commanded, and she was aware of the ice in her tone.</p><p>“Oh, I believe you understand,” Adrienne smirked, “<em>Miss </em>Greengrass.”</p><p>“I should remind you,” Daphne smiled sweetly, as her words became frost, “that while you are correct, I am no longer the Heir to House Greengrass, I am still a full member of my Most Ancient, Most Noble family, with all the rights and duties that this status confers.”</p><p>She went to sip on her tea, and noticed that there were <em>literal </em>lines of frost covering its surface.</p><p>“I rather thought that you’d have a better grasp of the complexities involved in managing lines of inheritance,” Daphne continued, “<em>Lady Zabini</em>, not that I wish to dredge up unpleasant memories of your husbands, may they rest in peace. Fret not, however, I would be happy to pass it along to my Lord Father that you require a refresher in these matters, they can be awfully hard to understand.”</p><p>Her threat was made on several levels: that Daphne herself was familiar with the “black widow’s” reputation and wasn’t afraid of her; that she held more status and power than Adrienne Zabini could ever have managed; and that she was happy to bring the full fury of Cyrus Greengrass down upon her for daring to insult the way he ran his House.</p><p>“Oh, my apologies,” Zabini spoke, “once again, my disobedient tongue seems to have led me to say things that could be misunderstood.”</p><p>“I’m quite sure,” Daphne smiled and blew into her tea, aware of the way that it turned back to ‘steaming’ as she did so, “do not trouble yourself, I won’t forget about your troublesome tongue.”</p><p>Daphne noticed Narcissa nod approvingly from the corner of her eye, while Lady Zabini didn’t exactly deflate where she sat (or any gesture so dramatic)<em>, </em>she held herself just the slightest degree less primly.</p><p><em>Damn, </em>she thought, <em>it actually feels kind of fantastic to shut her down so easily. I could almost get used to bossing around horrid Purebloods like this.</em></p><p>
  <em>Maybe my “role” isn’t so bad after all.</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>It was the middle of the afternoon when Fleur finally showed up, after Pansy had invited her to meet at Serpentine to go over her latest set of designs, as well as to introduce one of Pansy’s new “designs”.</p><p>When the part-Veela walked through the doors of her shop, she met Pansy with a sharp smile, before immediately striding towards her, clearly about to exchange one of her characteristically over-affectionate greetings.</p><p>Pansy found it hard to argue with it, as much as the idea sent a shock of thrill running down her spine.</p><p>“Pansy, my love,” Fleur pretended like she didn’t understand how to use British slang, “as always, such a pleasure to see you.”</p><p>She wrapped Pansy in a tight embrace, crushing the shorter woman into her substantial curves and planting a wet kiss on both of Pansy’s cheeks.</p><p><em>Fucking <strong>Morgana</strong>,</em> Pansy thought, <em> subtlety, thy name is absolutely not “Fleur Delacour”.</em></p><p>“So,” Pansy spoke, “let’s head to the back, I’ve got some preliminary concepts for you to try.”</p><p>“C 'est ravissant!” Fleur replied, using a phrase that could have been literally interpreted as ‘that’s delightful’, but carried the same sort of connotation as the English phrase ‘ravishing’.</p><p>“This piece is one of the keynotes that you had in mind,” Pansy explained as she retrieved a gown that would, eventually, be made of Acromantula silk, but as a demonstration was crafted of simple cotton, “wanna try it on?”</p><p>“But of course,” Fleur was already stripping out of her shirt.</p><p>Pansy couldn’t help but stare. It was easy to tell that the woman hadn’t been exaggerating when she claimed that she’d be undergoing “changes” as she became more Veela, however that baffling area of magic actually worked.</p><p>While every inch of Fleur Delacour was beautiful, looking at her – <strong> really </strong> looking at her – inspired a feeling that might very well have been a relative of "fear".</p><p>Her features were refined to the point that they began to border on inhuman in some subtle ways, like her knife-edge cheekbones, full lips that seemed like they should be impossible with her delicate, doll-like chin, and long, almost pointed ears...</p><p>Even with all those striking features, it was colour which caused Pansy to realize that her friend(?) was truly <strong>changing. </strong></p><p>Her hair had turned from "golden-blonde" into true "white gold", pale and metallic in its lustre. Her eyes, which always shone like gemstones, seemed to have shifted from "sapphire" to "amethyst" when the light caught them just right, as blue mixed with a fiery glint of red</p><p>Of course, the overall impression wasn’t hurt by Fleur’s proportions, either; she had become <em>ridiculously </em>tall, by Pansy’s measure.</p><p><em>Daph is a “tall” woman, </em>Pansy thought fondly of her girlfriend, <em>but Fleur’s just tall in general.</em></p><p>She wouldn’t have been surprised if Fleur had passed six feet in height, making her taller than not just Pansy’s girlfriend, but probably her boyfriend too.</p><p>Despite her height, Fleur did not leave the impression of lankiness, either; her hips were as impossibly wide as her waist was narrow, and her chest curved impressively with her large breasts, which sat high and firm on her chest in a way that was, once again, unattainable by most people.</p><p>It was easy to understand why Veela were considered to be Magical Beings of lust; Fleur was probably the most physically-attractive person that Pansy could even imagine.  </p><p><em>Even with all that, though, </em>Pansy smirked to herself, <em>Daph <strong>still </strong>has a better arse than you.</em></p><p>Looking at Fleur trying on the clothes that <em>she </em>had created, Pansy felt a bit of pride. Even if nothing else that she had in mind ever wound up coming to fruition, the mere opportunity to have Fleur fucking Delacour parading around in <em>Serpentine </em>originals was an incredible stroke of fortune.</p><p>“This is good,” Fleur struck a pose in the black dress, showing how her legs (<em>ridiculously long, slender and yet full that they were</em>) were revealed by the deep slits in the side, “you will have to extend its length, however.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pansy swallowed before she spoke, “lemme measure you again, one sec.”</p><p>She retrieved her tape measure, and found that – as she’d predicted – Fleur’s height was now a bit over six feet.</p><p>“Are you going to keep growing?” Pansy groused, feeling insecure about her own ‘five foot two’ status for once.</p><p>“<em>Non</em>,” Fleur smirked, “at least, not in height. I believe that I am close to the completion of my <em>metamorphose, </em>any further changes will likely be to my magical presence, rather than my physical form.”</p><p>“Fucking brilliant,” Pansy muttered.</p><p>While Pansy was also taking a growing amount of pride out of the fact that she was becoming more magically powerful, she understood on a deep, primal level that she couldn’t even begin to measure up against Fleur.</p><p>She’d felt true <em>power </em>on a few occasions in her life: the first time she’d laid eyes on Albus Dumbledore; watching Harry duel; and having Hermione Granger utterly dismantle her and Daph in a duel, and Fleur didn’t quite approach that level. If Pansy had to guess, however, she’d estimate that Fleur’s abilities weren’t <em>that </em>far off.</p><p>“So,” Fleur asked, “are there other pieces I shall try on?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pansy answered, “another dress, and the shirt-and-trousers combo you had for this fall’s wardrobe.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Fleur gestured to her back, “unzip me, <em>s'il te plaît?</em>”</p><p><em>Awfully formal way to say “please”, </em>Pansy thought.</p><p>She had to actually reach upwards to grasp the zipper at the back of Fleur’s dress (<em>the final version will close with charms alone, </em>Pansy recalled), and didn’t miss the obvious power move that Fleur had just made, obligating Pansy to press into her back to “serve” her.</p><p>“So,” Pansy decided this was as good a time as any, “this isn’t the only reason I invited you here today.”</p><p>“Oh, is it not?” Fleur’s eyes sparkled with mirth, but her smile carried a hint of something frightening.</p><p>“I have a bit of a proposition for you,” Pansy elaborated.</p><p>“Is that so?” Fleur’s gaze became <em>far </em>too intense as she leaned closer to Pansy, “do tell,” she whispered into Pansy’s ear.</p><p>“I need a favour,” Pansy answered.</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>The evening had been much more pleasant than the day had been, as Harry took advantage of the chance to just enjoy his girlfriends’ company for a while, with thoughts of politics temporarily out of mind. Daphne had also been in high spirits, while Pansy was full of a flustered, chaotic energy, apparently also happy with something.</p><p>This dynamic had continued when they’d called it a night and made their way to bed. They’d barely stepped inside the room before Pansy had seized Daphne by her shirt, pressing her into the wall and kissing her <em>aggressively.</em></p><p>Harry stepped forward to join in, only for Pansy to shove him back, guiding him towards their bed at the same time as she pulled Daphne into the middle of the room.</p><p>“Be patient for a minute,” Pansy commanded, “get naked, though.”</p><p>He grinned as he obeyed her, undressing himself as he watched his girlfriends make out with each other, Pansy quickly and efficiently stripping Daphne of her clothing.</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry reviewed, “I’ll never get tired of watching you two together.”</p><p>He idly started to stroke himself, enjoying the sight of Daphne writhing where she stood, Pansy’s hand busy between her legs. When Pansy started to push Daphne towards him, backing her up in the direction of the bed, Harry’s gaze was locked to the way that Daph’s arse jiggled every time she took a step.</p><p>“Harry,” Pansy interrupted his thoughts, “are you hard?”</p><p>“Absolutely,” Harry confirmed.</p><p>“<em>You</em>,” Pansy commanded their girlfriend, “sit on his cock. I want you to fuck his brains out.”</p><p>“<em>Ungh,</em>” Daphne made an incoherent noise of pleasure, but she turned around to approach him.</p><p>“No, no, no,” Pansy teased, “keep facing me. Back that arse up, love.”</p><p>“I’m in favour of this idea,” Harry chuckled.</p><p>He watched with rapt interest as Daphne backed up into him, his knees locked against the back of hers, before she lowered her <em>glorious </em>arse down to his lap. They both took a shuddering, pleasured breath as his cock pushed against her entrance, and Daphne reached between their legs to make sure that he was lined up as she sunk down on him.</p><p>“Fuck, Daph,” Harry leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck.</p><p>“I think we are, Harry,” she giggled, and started to roll her hips slowly back and forth, stretching herself out on him.</p><p>“Not yet you aren’t,” Pansy teased, “I said <em>fuck </em>him, not give him a nice little lap-dance.”</p><p>The brunette straddled over both of their legs, and reached down to take a <em>firm </em>grip on Daphne’s arse, her flesh dimpling under Pansy’s hands.</p><p>Both Harry and Daphne groaned once again as Pansy guided Daphne through the motions she had in mind; first instructing her to lift herself up, then shoving her back down, slamming her hips down onto Harry’s.</p><p>“That’s more like it,” Pansy drawled, and continued to guide them through the pace that she had in mind, a fast, aggressive kind of sex.</p><p><em>It suits her, </em>Harry thought, as he contended himself to this more passive role for now.</p><p>“It’s a good thing you’re so tall,” Pansy commented, “my feet would be dangling in the air if I tried this position. And it’s a <em>damn </em>good thing you’ve got all,” she spanked Daphne for emphasis, “this,” she shoved her back down on Harry, “arse to enjoy.”</p><p>Harry nibbled Daphne’s earlobe, taking advantage of the briefest of pauses in her motions.</p><p>“Fffuck, you two,” Daphne whined, “he’s going so deep, Pansy…”</p><p>“Good,” Pansy pulled her back up, and slammed her down once again, “I want you to fucking <em>impale </em>her, Harry.”</p><p>“That so?” the next time Daphne’s arse came down on him, Harry thrust his hips up, and the <em>clap </em>that echoed through the room almost drowned out her gasp of pleasure.</p><p>“Fuck yes,” Pansy stepped back a bit to watch them, and Harry saw her hand dip between her own legs – <em>I didn’t even notice Pansy get undressed, she’s good at being sneaky like that, </em>he thought – as she took the opportunity to watch the show.</p><p>It didn’t take long for Daphne to cum as they pounded against each other, and she made a high, beautiful noise when she collapsed bonelessly into Harry’s lap, his cock still buried inside of her.</p><p>“Harry?” she whispered, quietly.</p><p>“Mhmm?”</p><p>“Let’s get her back, yeah?” Daphne smirked, and there was a spark of fire in her gaze, “right now.”</p><p>Daphne leapt off of him without warning, seizing Pansy in her arms. Their girlfriend shrieked and started to make obviously-exaggerated complaints as Daphne took advantage of her aforementioned height, spinning the shorter woman around, then lifting her off the ground.</p><p>“Wow,” Harry muttered, as he stood to his feet in turn.</p><p>“Get her legs!” Daphne ordered, and Harry listened, grabbing Pansy’s calves, even as she half-heartedly kicked as if she wanted to free herself.</p><p>“You brutes!” Pansy giggled, “unhand me this instant!”</p><p>Daphne hooked her hands overtop of Harry’s, then <em>bent </em>Pansy in her arms, holding the brunette by the backs of her thighs, her back pressed into Daphne’s chest as she held their girlfriend in mid-air, her legs splayed wide open.</p><p>“Harry,” Daphne spoke, and he stepped forward, sandwiching Pansy between their bodies.</p><p>It was Pansy who reached down and lined his cock up with her pussy, proving (not that he doubted it) that she was actually very much in favour of this position, despite her continued protests.</p><p>“What do you even think you’re doing!?” Pansy teased.</p><p>Daphne thrust her hips forward, and the motion hilted all of Harry’s cock inside Pansy in one rapid movement.</p><p>“Ffuck,” Pansy slurred.</p><p>“I agree,” Daphne leaned down to bite at the side of Pansy’s neck, as she started to rock their girlfriend back in forth in her arms, sliding her along Harry’s length with every motion, “Harry, fuck our girlfriend, would you?”</p><p>“I think I can manage,” Harry joked, hooking his arms under Pansy’s to help Daphne carry her.</p><p>He and Daphne started to move their hips together, matching their movements so that they’d both thrust forward at the same time, which served to drive his cock even deeper into Pansy than he’d just done with Daphne.</p><p>“<em>Uuunf,</em>” Pansy seemed to approve of this treatment, she had one arm wrapped around each of her partners’ heads as they collaboratively fucked her.</p><p>“Starting to get close,” Harry leaned across to kiss Daphne, staying stationary for a moment as Pansy was crushed between them, “any requests?”</p><p>“Pansy’s been awfully demanding tonight,” Daphne replied, “give her what she wants, yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck yeah,” the brunette murmured from between them.</p><p>Daphne held Pansy’s legs open, the brunette’s knees practically in her own armpits, as Harry started to thrust faster and faster, every movement making Pansy’s tits jiggle against his chest. He leaned down to kiss her deeply, and felt her clench and tighten around him, a soft whine escaping from between their joined lips.</p><p>“You two,” Harry grunted, his pace becoming desperate, “are fucking incredible.”</p><p>“Fuckin’,” Pansy stuttered, her breath hitching in time with his thrusts, “you, you know it.”</p><p>“I love you two,” Daphne spoke happily, “especially seeing you like this.”</p><p>She leaned in to kiss Harry’s ear, and Pansy craned her head up to suck at his neck, just below his Adam’s apple, and he couldn’t weather their combined attack.</p><p>Harry groaned wordlessly as he came, hilting his full length inside Pansy, filling her with his cum just as she – and Daphne – had asked him to.</p><p>He pulled out of her slowly, both of them groaning at the sensation, and backed up into their bed, flopping down on his back. Daphne carried Pansy over, and tossed her down beside them, before kneeling down, dipping her head between their girlfriend’s legs.</p><p>“<em>Eep,</em>” Pansy made an absolutely <strong>adorable </strong>noise, giggling to herself as Daphne licked her clean. Harry leaned over to kiss her, and Pansy met him with a quick series of affectionate pecks.</p><p>“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Harry teased.</p><p>“Y’both are,” Pansy slurred, it seemed like her orgasm had taken more out of her than usual.</p><p>“You both <em>taste </em>incredible,” Daphne lifted her head, a happy smirk on her face as she’d just had the opportunity to carry out her favourite kink.</p><p>“C’mere,” Pansy requested, and Daphne crawled onto the bed, so that she was on the other side of Pansy. Once again, the shorter woman was pressed between her two partners, but this time it was much more sedate, all three content to happily tangle their limbs together.</p><p>“I still can’t believe how lucky I am,” Harry breathed, wrapping his arms around both of his girlfriends, “I couldn’t do this without you two.”</p><p>“None of us could without the other two,” Pansy muttered, “we’re all lucky, we all love each other, all that romantic sappy stuff.”</p><p>Daphne just giggled happily, stretching out beside Pansy.</p><p>Harry already felt sleep approaching, so he waved his hand in the air, pulling some pillows under their heads and a blanket over them. He didn’t even want to leave their three-person embrace long enough to arrange them a more conventional sleeping position.</p><p>“Good call,” Pansy murmured, “’m sleepy.”</p><p>“Me too,” Daphne snuggled into them, “goodnight, you two.”</p><p>“Night,” Harry answered.</p><p>He felt <em>content </em>as he drifted off to sleep.</p><p>Despite all the recent difficulties in their lives, Harry had never been happier, never felt more alive, than he did in that moment.   </p><hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>ONE</strong>
</p><p>Tʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ, ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏɴᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ. As ᴀ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ, ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɴᴛʀᴇ ᴏғ sᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪɴᴇs.</p><hr/>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are about to change.</p><p>This is a bit of a transitory chapter, as the second part of the politics plotline comes to a close, and some of the directions that its third part are going to lead down are elaborated on.</p><p>Between the lines of the vignettes in this chapter, there's some little demonstrations of character growth, as well as hints at the future of <i>those</i> lines.</p><p>As a minor ret-con, I went back and changed "Lord Higgs" to simply "Bertie Higgs" in the text of (Revel)ations - this doesn't impact any plot points, but I wanted to be consistent with the fact he's an elected seat, not an actual "Lord". I doubt anyone would have noticed this, but I did :P </p><p>Let me know what you think about this chapter! I'd love to hear some ideas about what might be coming around the corner.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Skull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>He walked through the party, feeling more ridiculous than usual at these sorts of events, thanks in large part to how he’d dressed. Harry wore <em>extremely </em>traditional dress robes on that night, huge and flowy on his lean frame, but fashion, unfortunately, had to give way to function.</p><p>Harry felt the slightly-unsettling warmth of his dragonhide armour directly against his skin, almost like a second heartbeat that mirrored his own, at times. As off-putting as it may have been, he’d deemed it a paranoid-within-reason accessory to wear to this event, considering that Sue had recently warned him to keep his head up and all.</p><p>Carrow Manor was partially not at all like Harry expected, and a large part exactly what he expected: there were a number of modern conveniences (for the Wizarding world) on display throughout the dining hall and guest room, and yet the architecture itself was certainly “medieval” of some sort, closer to a small keep than a mansion.</p><p>Of all the slightly-unsettling things he experienced that night, one of the things near the top of Harry’s list was the constant feeling that he was being watched; the source of <em>this </em>particular brand of paranoia wasn’t hard to decipher, given that Lord Carrow apparently hosted an entire flock of ravens within his manor. The birds perched along rails near the ceiling (clearly designed for that exact purpose), and rather than fluttering about and squawking as Harry would have anticipated, they just… watched silently.</p><p>One, in particular, unsettled Harry the most: there was an <em>enormous </em>fucker perched at the very centre of the room, closer in size to an eagle than most ravens he’d seen, and white as snow.</p><p><em>Or white as bones, </em>Harry thought, as he creeped himself out.</p><p>That bird, in particular, seemed to follow Harry with its gaze at all times. He kind of suspected that the Carrow “family magic” <em>(whatever that bloody means) </em>related to the birds somehow, so Harry tried to brush it off as no different than all the other times concerned parties had focused their wards on him, specifically.</p><p>Daphne and Pansy had explained the principles of this topic to him, after he’d finally told them about what Cyrus had said after the last Wizengamot session. According to Daphne, it was a phenomenon which tended to blur the lines between “spells kept secret within a family” and “certain magical traits expressed through a bloodline”, which was a whole bunch of vagueness that failed to clear up much of anything for Harry.</p><p>The Greengrass family, for example, tended to specialize in ice magic, and Harry could believe it, having seen some of the potent spells that Daphne had used during her recent combat magic training. In addition to this, their height was considered to be a particularly “Greengrass” trait, but Harry thought that just sounded like plain old genetics to him.</p><p>Pansy, on the other hand, said that the Parkinson family magic was nothing to write home about: they tended to have a predisposition towards potion-crafting, enough to give her an edge over a similarly-trained competitor, but nothing that would make her a potions master without ever having to crack a textbook open.</p><p>Harry had done some digging into the Potter and Black families <em>(let’s leave anything else for later, </em>he thought), and what he’d found had, respectively, made complete sense, and made zero sense at all.</p><p>The Potters had somewhat of a reputation as “war wizards”, predisposed to find success with big, flashy charms, and that seemed to suit Harry to a ‘t’.</p><p>The Blacks, on the other hand…</p><p>Apparently, the family motto – <em>“toujours pur”; “always pure” – </em>was less related to bragging about their blood status, but actually something that originated in an ancient bloodline ritual. As Harry was now Lord Black – as far as he understood it – any spells or wards keyed to “the blood of Black” would work perfectly fine for him.</p><p>If magic <em>did </em>have some kind of guiding sentience behind it, it would supposedly see Harry as descended directly from the founder of House Black, while at the same time recognizing his actual heritage as a Potter. It sounded like a contradiction to Harry, but it seemed that Magic-with-a-capital-m didn’t always have to make sense.</p><p>The end result was that, whatever magical implications this impossible status carried, Harry was now a Pureblood <em>and </em>a Half-Blood all at once, separately a Black and a Potter, and also both combined.</p><p>It made his head spin.</p><p><em>I thought Pureblood family trees were complicated enough already, </em>he groused in his thoughts.</p><p>This had kicked off a bit of an intellectual debate between Harry and his girlfriends; he thought that the whole “you’re a Pureblood, Harry” thing sounded awfully close to actual evidence of blood purity, which – <em>naturally –</em> offended him on a deep level, but Pansy insisted that wasn’t really how it worked.</p><p>He recalled their conversation:</p><p><em>“It’s not that being a Pureblood makes you stronger in magic, obviously,” </em>Pansy had explained in a huff,<em> “it’s that being a Pureblood makes you better at <span class="u">very specific </span>kinds of family magic, depending on who you’re descended from.”</em></p><p><em>“Doesn’t that kind of validate Pureblood rhetoric?” </em>he’d asked, sourly.</p><p><em>“Not really,” </em>Daphne had explained, <em>“a Muggleborn with strong magical potential would bring more to the table than someone who descended from a long line of mediocre Wizards, if anything, it’s a demonstration that ‘blood purity’ results in crippling over-specialization.” </em></p><p><em>“Exactly,” </em>Pansy groused, <em>“my lineage means that I’ve got an inborn talent for potions, right? But thanks to generations of absolutely mediocre Parkinsons, I’m no better at potion-craft than the average Witch. If my ancestors had married a powerful Half-Blood at some point, I’d probably lose some of the potions bit, but I’d gain <strong>way</strong> more in other areas.” </em></p><p>Even after that conversation, the whole concept still kind of bugged him, but Harry figured he’d have to talk it out with Hermione to really grasp the topic.</p><p>Regardless of his feelings, the whole thing meant that, apparently, anyone who found themselves part of House Black gained the potential to become an absolutely <em>cracking </em>necromancer, reinforced by generations of rituals. This possibility was one that Harry <strong>never </strong>planned to investigate; he had seen far too much Death, and didn’t need to bother the reaper any more than he already had.</p><p>He supposed that it was only natural that he’d wind up pondering the intricacies of Pureblood family magic, considering he was wandering through a party hosted at the ancestral manor of an ancient family.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” the Lord of this family – Artaxes Carrow – wandered over to greet him, “welcome to my home. I am pleased that you were able to attend this event.”</p><p>Harry still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Artaxes; he was Flora and Hestia’s dad, and they’d turned out much better than expected, so that was one point in his favour, but he was also Amycus and Alecto’s cousin, who were Death Eaters.</p><p>In the Wizengamot, he’d voted “Yea” on the divorce bill, but that didn’t necessarily mean much, as a fair number of “traditional” Lords and voters had.</p><p>“Lord Carrow,” Harry returned the traditional greeting, “thank you for welcoming me. There’s much to celebrate, in my eyes.”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Artaxes fixed him with a flat stare, “Cyrus’s bill. It was adequately worded, in the end, but there is still much to come, I imagine.”</p><p><em>From what I’ve heard about Artaxes, </em>Harry recalled the way that Sue had described the man, <em>saying “adequately worded” might as well be enthusiastic cheering from him. </em></p><p>The Lord Carrow, whether or not he fell on the “traditional” or “begrudgingly progressive” side of the fence, was a man whose primary cause he’d dedicated his life to was that of <em>order</em>. This was not to say he was a nebbish or dainty sort; his encyclopaedic knowledge of various duelling codes had been learned through experience, not from books.</p><p><em>I bet him and Savage would get along smashingly, </em>Harry mused, <em>which means they’d exchange a polite nod, and return to their documents.</em></p><p>“It will be interesting,” Harry posed a question, “to see where the lines of support fall, in these matters yet to come.”</p><p>“Indeed, it will,” Artaxes didn’t give him <em>anything </em>to work with.</p><p>Harry let a moment of silence pass, usually a tactic which inspired people to continue talking, but it appeared that “awkwardness” was not a valid strategy to get Artaxes to talk.</p><p>“You’ve got quite an impressive flock,” Harry gestured at the ravens all around the room, “what’s the story there?”</p><p>“Thank you,” Artaxes actually showed a bit of a spark of interest with this change in topic, “our family has a long history of keeping conspiracies,” Harry took a moment to recall that the word was technically the group noun for a flock of ravens, “such that it is speculated that our House name might actually originate from a misunderstanding of both the species, and the word ‘crow’.”</p><p>“Hard to imagine anyone could mistake that big white fellow there for a crow,” Harry said, “quite striking, him.”</p><p>“Hm?” Artaxes seemed confused.</p><p>“Up there,” Harry pointed to the pale bird, which kept its gaze remained unsettlingly fixed on him, “the, uh, albino one?”</p><p>“Oh,” Artaxes blinked a couple times, “I see it now. That is not one of mine. Curious. It must be a distant relative. It can be ever so confusing, tracing one’s origins.”</p><p>“I’m fairly certain,” Harry joked, “that my ancestors were practiced in making clay pots.”</p><p>“Long traditions might arise from the simplest beginnings,” Artaxes spoke cryptically, “for example, there are also rumors that the ravens of the Tower of London are descendants of the Carrow conspiracy.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have expected you to know about Muggle superstitions,” Harry admitted.</p><p>“Magic manifests in many forms,” Artaxes raised an eyebrow, “though the non-magical may lack understanding of our world, this does not mean that they are unaffected by our practises.”</p><p><em>Hmm, </em>Harry thought, <em>that sounds awfully close to “blood purity is a load of shite”, reading between the lines.</em></p><p>“As I’m sure you know,” Harry hedged a bet, “my mother was Muggleborn.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Artaxes replied, “I had never made her acquaintance, but by all accounts, she became a most accomplished witch. While the Potters may or may not have had humble origins, I rather think that the name will be elevated for our descendants.”</p><p><em>Yeah, he’s hinting that he’s on board with laws that aren’t founded in blood purity, </em>Harry realized.</p><p>“Please inform me if you require anything,” Artaxes continued, “I must greet my other guests. Lord Potter-Black.”</p><p>“Lord Carrow.” Harry exchanged the traditional goodbye.</p><p><em>Well, that might be another victory, </em>he thought, <em>if House Carrow is on our side, that’s another six votes we can count on. </em></p><p>Harry wandered idly through the party, eventually wandering by a passing server to snag himself a glass of champagne. He caught sight of Sue – <em>dressed much less traditionally, practically can’t tell if that’s a dress or a suit</em> – and he waved his glass in her direction to catch her eye.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” Sue greeted him, a subtle smirk on her face.</p><p>“Lady Bones,” he could have rolled his eyes, “walk with me?”</p><p>They linked their arms together, appearing for all the world as an about-to-be-betrothed couple, while Harry guided them to a quieter part of the party, away from prying ears.</p><p>“Sounds like Lord Carrow’s on our team,” Harry muttered to her.</p><p>“Not too surprising,” Sue replied, “like I said, he’s a pretty decent chap, even if he’s way too highbrow for me.”</p><p>“I think, if this keeps up,” Harry continued, “and the wedge that seems to have showed up between Cyrus and Houses Yaxley and Selwyn is a real thing, we just might have the votes to stop the ‘rights and responsibilities bill.”</p><p>They’d found their way to an empty corner room, which was set with drinks on hand for guests, but apparently wasn’t in use by anyone else. <em>Perfect for this conversation. </em></p><p>“I wouldn’t count on that yet,” Sue frowned, “the ‘wedge’ part, that is. Something’s up, I’m not sure what it is yet, but I think there’s a little bit of a power struggle going on behind the scenes.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Did you notice who’s in attendance tonight?” Sue queried.</p><p>Harry hadn’t been paying the closest attention; he’d already known that Cyrus Greengrass was <strong>not </strong>attending this party (he’d mailed his invitation tickets to Daphne, no doubt part of his continued schemes to portray hers and Harry’s “courtship” as his idea), but past that, he hadn’t really spotted anyone too notable.</p><p>“Uh,” Harry answered, “not that many seated Lords, all things considered.”</p><p>“Right,” Sue nodded, “that’s the catch. There’s a whole bunch of Lords who passed on this party, despite the fact it’s one of the more prestigious ones likely to be hosted this year, and instead, a whole bunch of heirs and distant relatives are using those invitations.”</p><p>“They couldn’t possibly be passing the torch,” Harry mused, “they wouldn’t give up that easily.”</p><p>“Fuck, no,” Sue agreed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the traditionalists are meeting elsewhere tonight, and the only ones who actually showed are the ones who <em>aren’t </em>a part of their inner circle.”</p><p>“Just when I thought I’d seen enough conspiracies tonight,” Harry sighed, “that’s the name for a group of ravens, by the way.”</p><p>Sue punched him lightly in the arm, and Harry mimed being wounded.</p><p>“I knew that already, you prat,” Sue punched him a second time, “that one’s for the pun, ugh. Seriously, though, I think that this is a problem.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“Look at the Lords who were no-shows: Burke, Rosier,” Sue started listing them, “Yaxley, Selwyn, and Parkinson. All of them either had Death Eater relatives, were suspected of involvement with the Death Eaters themselves, or have relatives who’ve recently been arrested for pulling Dark shite.”</p><p>“You’re forgetting one,” Harry admitted.</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Greengrass,” he shrugged, “Daphne’s dad sent her his invitations. Don’t ask me why, I haven’t the foggiest. Same with Pansy, actually…”</p><p>Harry understood how Daphne’s relationship with her parents had become strained to the point of nonexistence, but Pansy’s own family utterly baffled him. It was as if she’d simply stopped being a Parkinson after the war, yet they hadn’t disowned her. She hadn’t even seen either of her parents in <em>years</em>, and yet they would occasionally write letters that simply contained invitations or gifts.</p><p><em>Too many bloody contradictions lately, </em>Harry grumbled in his thoughts.</p><p>“Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of Lord Parkinson in months,” Sue muttered, “right fishy, innit?”</p><p>“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if he wound up in jail one day,” Harry nodded, “you’ve seen my reports on the Rosier case by now, I’d assume?”</p><p>“Yup,” Sue tapped a finger against her chin, “Felix Rosier isn’t really a politically active sort either, he seems to prefer the world of dinner parties, which makes his absence even weirder than the rest.”</p><p>“Maybe there’s two factions?” Harry speculated, “the Rosiers and Lord Parkinson seem to be linked up already, but they’re not part of the public Burke-Selwyn-Yaxley group that’s been following Cyrus’s marching orders of late.”</p><p>While the topic itself was one that still made him a bit nervous to this day, Harry had to admit that it felt <em>good </em>to be solving this kind of mystery once again, rather than untangling political conspiracies. Neither he nor Sue were official Aurors, but both were close enough to the role that they spoke the same language.</p><p>“Selwyn and Yaxley voted ‘nay’, but Burke was an ‘aye’,” Harry continued, “maybe those two are splitting away from House Greengrass?”</p><p>“Makes sense,” Sue hummed in thought, “especially since, for all public purposes, the Greengrass/Potter-Black alliance has become predominant.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry realized, “what if that’s what Cyrus is pulling?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Playing up his ‘alliance’ with me,” Harry’s thoughts raced, “in order to scare the traditionalists into falling into line. Merlin knows that they normally squabble enough between each other to make that difficult.”</p><p>“Right,” Sue agreed, “the Flints and Montagues absolutely despise each other, but they’ll happily work together if it means screwing over the Travers family, who they both hate even worse.”</p><p>“Fucking clever of him,” Harry muttered grumpily, “just when I thought we were getting ahead…”</p><p>His thoughts were interrupted by flapping wings, and the enormous white raven made another appearance, perching on a roost directly above Harry.</p><p>“A pleasant discussion as ever, Lady Bones,” Harry switched to less confidential topics, “we should return to the party, I believe. It would be unfortunate if any gossip was spread about our absence.”</p><p>Sue stared at him, confused, then shrugged and took his arm again.</p><p><em>I don’t like that bird, </em>Harry thought, <em>it seems way too aware of what’s going on.</em></p><p>It almost felt familiar, somehow, and that completely and utterly creeped him out.</p><p>He and Sue made their way to rejoin the rest of the guests, exchanged a brief goodbye to one another, then separated to start mingling once again.</p><p>Harry saw Daphne off to the side of the room, engaged in a casual conversation with Lord Slughorn, one of Horace’s relatives.</p><p><em>Surprised she was never in the Slug Club, </em>Harry mused, <em>I guess that back then, “socializing” wasn’t really her thing.</em></p><p>Sue headed in that direction, so Harry figured that she’d handle the breakdown of their recent conversation. He looked around, trying to find where Pansy was; they couldn’t exactly be seen having a long talk with one another, but Harry was a bit worried that he might find one of her father’s allies bothering her.</p><p>Fortunately, she seemed as supremely unbothered as ever, hanging around with Blaise<em> (whose mother is another typical attendee missing from tonight, </em>Harry realized, <em>should have noticed that). </em></p><p>He still wanted to go after Lady Zabini for her recent scheme, but Pansy had been insistent that Daphne and him had enough on their plates with their public roles, and that she was entirely capable of disarming the marriage contract trap that Adrienne had attempted to set.</p><p>Harry started to make his way in their direction anyways – <em>can’t hurt to be seen expanding my circles </em>– before he stopped in his tracks as his eyes caught a man that he didn’t recognize at <em>all</em>.</p><p>The stranger was tall, memorably so, easily six-foot-six if not a bit more than that. He had short-cropped blonde hair and light, piercing eyes which were noticeable even halfway across the party, but the most unique feature that the man had were the deep red lines criss-crossing his face.</p><p><em>Those scars are called “schmiss”, </em>Harry recalled the term, <em>duelling scars. Leonhardt von Krafft, the guy that Sue duelled at her party, he had those too.</em></p><p>Considering how things had turned out the previous time that an unknown German man had shown up to a party in the company of a Pureblood Lord, Harry took this as a bad sign.</p><p>There was another flapping of wings behind him, and he flicked his gaze in that direction just long enough to spot the white raven, watching him yet again.</p><p>
  <em>Speaking of bad omens…</em>
</p><p>Harry felt magic curl around in his chest, as his armour responded to his racing heartbeat, warmth <em>(nearly hot enough to be painful)</em> spreading over his chest as the dragonhide cried out for combat. Whatever spells that Vlad Drakul’s armourers had worked into the material, they were effective ones, but <em>scary</em>.</p><p>He walked towards the strange man, a disarming jinx already held silently at bay, in case he needed to use it.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a more familiar figure; Geoffrey Selwyn, who Susan had previously identified as someone she was keeping a watch on. Unluckily, he was approaching from her rear, slowly heading in hers and Daphne’s direction through the crowd.</p><p>
  <em>Shite.</em>
</p><p>Sue had warned him to keep his head up, and he’d gotten distracted, failed to notice potential threats infiltrating the party.</p><p>Harry glanced towards the blond stranger, and saw that he was speaking to Artaxes, who no doubt was curious as to whom, exactly, had shown up in his home.</p><p>Harry turned, deciding that he’d head towards Selwyn instead.</p><p>He was too late.</p><p>Selwyn swaggered towards Daphne, stepping through the crowd in a way that obscured him from Susan’s sight, and Harry saw the man reach into his robes.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, no.</em>
</p><p>“Blood traitor!” Selwyn screamed, then drew his wand and trained it on Daphne.</p><p>
  <em>No, no no no no!</em>
</p><p>There were too many people in the way; Harry didn’t have a clear shot at Selwyn.</p><p>Time crawled to a halt. It was as if Harry’s entire world was moving in slow motion, as he tried to respond to Selwyn’s threat in time. He attempted to apparate towards Selwyn, only to recoil as his magic slammed into a barrier.</p><p>“<em>Ava<strong>-</strong></em>“ Selwyn began.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>NO!</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Harry’s magic uncoiled and raged, and the fire in his chest became an inferno. He stomped his foot into the ground, as it felt like his leg took hours to move, and with that gesture, with the whirlwind of magic invisibly surrounding him, he tore the wards of Carrow Manor from their moorings.</p><p>“-da Ked-“ Selwyn continued.</p><p>With a slash of his hand, Harry shredded through the anti-apparition barriers, and felt the world whirl, blurring into an indistinct haze of colour, as he stepped through space, moving towards Daphne.</p><p>“-avra!” Selwyn finished casting the Killing Curse. As the words echoed in his soul, Harry heard the flapping of wings.</p><p>Harry appeared in the space between Daphne and Selwyn. He saw the signature green lightning of the Killing Curse emerging from Selwyn’s wand, and even though his own wand was in hand, Harry realized that he wouldn’t have time to grab Daphne and disapparate out of the way. Nor would he be able to transfigure a barrier to block the curse; the bolt of sickly green energy was already halfway to its destination.</p><p>
  <em>Well, I had a good run.</em>
</p><p>As time crawled slowly onwards, and the curse drew ever-closer, Harry exhaled his final breath.</p><p>
  <em>I love you two, please stay alive, for me.</em>
</p><p>The Killing Curse struck Harry in the chest.</p>
<hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>ZERO</strong>
</p><p>Aʟᴘʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ Oᴍᴇɢᴀ. Tʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. Fɪɴɪᴛᴇ, ʏᴇᴛ ɪɴᴅɪᴠɪsɪʙʟᴇ; ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴇxɪsᴛ ᴀs ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ. A ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ ᴇǫᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙʏ ɪᴛs ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʙsᴇɴᴄᴇ.       </p>
<hr/>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are... not what they seem.</p><p>Next chapter Sunday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Skeleton</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<hr/><p><strong>Oɴᴇ </strong>ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴇs ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜsᴇ ᴏғ Mᴀɢɪᴄ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴏʟᴠᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜɴᴅᴀᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ Mᴀɢɪᴄ ɪs.</p><p>Mᴀɴʏ ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴘʜᴏʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴀʟᴏɢɪᴇs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜɪs ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ: Mᴀɢɪᴄ ɪs ᴀ sᴏɴɢ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴜɴɢ; Mᴀɢɪᴄ ɪs ᴀ ᴛᴀᴘᴇsᴛʀʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡᴏᴠᴇɴ; Mᴀɢɪᴄ ɪs ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ.</p><p>Aʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴsᴜғғɪᴄɪᴇɴᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ғʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ.</p><p>Tᴡᴏ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀᴛɪʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ɪᴛ ɪs ᴛʜɪs ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴛ ᴏғ Mᴀɢɪᴄ; ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ.</p><p>Tʜᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪs ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴇᴇᴍɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋs ᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ғᴏʀᴍ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ: ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ғɪɴɪᴛᴇ; ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅʟᴇss ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ, ʏᴇᴛ sᴛɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ; ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴘᴇʟᴇss ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ sʜᴀᴘᴇ.</p><p>Tʜᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ɪs ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ, ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ғᴏʀᴍ.</p><p>As it splits a fragment of itself from itself, the being ponders how, in some ways, this form it takes is reminiscent of a mortal body. This is helpful for it to attain the correct perspective. This, too, is an inherent aspect of the natural order; all living souls carry a tiny fragment of the being within themselves. In this shape, the being ponders the nature of mortal life, and how such small souls can work such great mysteries.</p><p>Wizardkind is capable of tapping into fundamental energies of their realm, reshaping the inanimate into animate, changing the physical nature of both themselves and others, and a thousand more examples, yet they still struggle to accept what might seem to be “paradox”.</p><p>Three dimensions of perception are, perhaps, too limiting.</p><p>Naturally, even in this form, the being perceives many, many more dimensions than a mere three.</p><p>The being ponders the particular impossibility of a specific Wizard; Harry Potter, one who has already achieved feats of Magic which none have yet equalled. He is a creature of fate, carrying legacies and prophecies on his shoulders, even to this day.</p><p>This, itself, is not so rare. Possibilities and probabilities swirl around him like threads fraying from a rope, subtle indicators of tapestries yet unwoven, songs yet unsung, signs of the ways in which Harry Potter will inevitably reshape the realm he lives in.  </p><p>Sigils, symbols, and emblems of power surround him. This, too, is not unique; though the tripart emblem of his true title certainly may be, many others have borne equivalent portents.  </p><p>Four Wizards, in the last millennia or so, have equalled his status.</p><p>Harry Potter’s greatest foe, Tom Riddle, had similar potential. Tom Riddle’s path was abominable, pursuing goals antithetical to the natural order that the being works to preserve, but none could have denied his power.</p><p>The alchemist, Nicolas Flamel, made achievements that were unparalleled, and somehow did so while staying within the bounds of life and Death.</p><p>In ancient times, Morgan le Fay practised Magic with skill paralleled by precious few, and prophecy coiled around her shoulders like a serpent. Her contemporary, the one known as “Merlin”, was an odd creature, more curious than any the being has ever met – until the rise of Harry Potter, that is.</p><p>While these four reached levels of notoriety and influence which has had their names become legend (as will the name Harry Potter), it is not solely Magical power that defines Harry Potter as particularly unique. He is certainly one of the most powerful living Wizards, but this is simply the result of a rare – yet not unique – aspect of his nature.</p><p>Five others have approached this level of potential in the recent memories of Wizardkind.</p><p>Harry Potter is not singularly blessed with Magical prowess: Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Gellert Grindelwald, Hermione Granger, and Lily Evans have held the potential to attain similar levels of ability. Most of these five have passed into the being’s hands at this point, and while Minerva McGonagall still lives, her time is coming to an end.</p><p>The being considers what might be the unique characteristic or facet which Harry Potter possesses, to make him so clearly distinct from his closest contemporary, Hermione Granger.</p><p>Both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are, to some level, abnormal. The frayed threads of time hanging off each of them are an obvious indicator that they have traveled backwards against the current of causality, though down the narrow, looping paths which mortals are capable of.</p><p>The being always thinks that it is curious that Wizardkind struggles so greatly with the concept of “fate” and yet are willing to come up with trinkets and charms which break the forward flow of Time; it is a good thing that this realm is currently free of such abnormalities, but their presence is not a critical matter.</p><p>After all, Magic is a non-linear phenomenon: things which are preordained might happen because of the events which came before, or the present might occur in a specific way because it is necessary to reach a certain future; this is another apparent contradiction which is simply a self-evident truth.</p><p>This is simply part of the construction of this realm; as inherent as Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. The classical Four Elements are part of the elemental makeup of this realm, but not its only components.</p><p>Six “elements” is more accurate to describe the metaphysical composition of this realm: not only the the classical Four Elements, but also “Time and Space”; “Magic, Life, and Death”.</p><p>When it comes to the topic of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and the distinction thereof, this divide is made obvious when looking past even Time and Magic, through the elemental makeup of their beings, and into more esoteric aspects.</p><p>Harry Potter has set foot in a realm which no living being has ever walked, and yet he remains living, his soul afire. The apparent contradictions continue: Harry Potter is a conqueror who has rejected most of his titles; a so-called Master with no servants; in some ways, a dragon without a hoard.</p><p>It is these reasons that cause the being to find itself utterly fascinated by the life of Harry Potter, beyond even the connection that they already share with one another.</p><p>The being shares a connection with every soul that lives, has lived, or will ever live, after all. Neither are the connections spreading from Harry Potter limited to his connection to the being.</p><p>Seven whirling threads of magic loop out from Harry Potter, and whoever they connect to is unknown. It is rare for the being to be surprised, but for a soul as highly connected to fate as Harry Potter is, that his future is so uncertain is curious.</p><p>The being believes that two of these threads are connected to Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson. Harry Potter, as a symbol, is connected to a triangle; it would make sense that his two lovers, so intimately connected to his Magic, would also be tied to his Fate. The being leaves this theory as an uncertainty, choosing not to look deeply enough to confirm its idea.</p><p>The being could follow these threads and determine the final words in the story being written, but it finds it more interesting to simply observe Harry Potter at particularly momentous times, to see what the mortal man decides for his own future.</p><p>If Magic is a story being told, it is more enjoyable when some things are left to surprise.</p><p>Many souls gather around Harry Potter, as the being observes him directly through the form it has taken at this time.</p><p>It has taken many forms over the years – in truth, as many as there are once-living souls – but it always finds that this particular shape is an enjoyable one; feathered, graceful and yet powerful in build, and white as sun-bleached bones.</p><p>Perhaps it is because it favours this form that the mortal equivalents are seen as omens of death.</p><p>The loom of fate begins to spin threads around Harry Potter; the symphony of Magic breaks into a cacophonous din; the strokes of a paintbrush grow frenzied and bold on the canvas of Time, as an event of critical importance approaches.</p><p>It wonders what it is that Harry Potter will do at this time, what might be so critically important to shake the metaphysical fabric of this realm so dramatically.</p><p>The being is fully capable of true omniscience, but chooses to limit its perspective to this time, this place, while it observes the upcoming events. Its gaze is not strictly tied to the eyes of the form it has taken, though it fixes its stare to Harry Potter out of sheer interest nonetheless.</p><p>It follows Harry Potter as he moves to different places in the residence of Artaxes Carrow, curious as to what event will be responsible for the increasingly-chaotic whorls of Fate and Magic surrounding him. Harry Potter engages Susan Bones in conversation, and the being watches, but as they separate from one another, only a faint, lingering connection remains.</p><p>Harry Potter rejoins the gathered crowd of souls, and the being follows, continuing to observe.</p><p>A soul – Geoffrey Selwyn – emerges from the crowd, with eddies of Dark Magic flowing around him. The wreath of Magic surrounding Harry Potter unravels to latch onto this man. He reaches into his robes to produce his wand, a device that this particular variety of Wizardkind uses to enhance their Magic.</p><p>The being watches as Geoffrey Selwyn takes aim, then utters a forbidden incantation, casts a forbidden spell, and produces a forbidden curse.</p><p>This man is an assassin.</p><p>The Killing Curse – Avada Kedavra, as the assassin intones – is a perversion of the natural order. It acts as a twisted imitation of the duties that the being itself carries out, cleaving soul from living body. It is abomination. Unforgiveable.</p><p>The being is incapable of true disgust, but the complex emotions and thoughts that it feels in response to this sight come close.</p><p>It watches as, in this time and place, the forbidden curse strikes Harry Potter in his chest.</p><p>The threads of Fate surrounding Harry Potter practically explode, as different outcomes and futures make themselves possible.</p><p>With a slight expression of its power, the being halts the flow of time.</p><p>It thinks that it is more than simply “curious”, but now outright “fascinating”; the number of potential outcomes which might result from this event. This is a momentous occasion, one which will send ripples both forward and backwards through time, and such occasions must be handled delicately.</p><p>The being opens its gaze slightly wider, and begins to peer into some of these futures which might result from the event taking place in this time, in this place. It peers down the paths spilling forward from this frozen moment.</p><p>
  <span class="u">In this time and place, the forbidden curse strikes Harry Potter in his chest.</span>
</p><p>In one thread of time, one song that might be sung, Harry Potter dies. The assassin is swiftly dispatched, the souls surrounding Harry Potter are shaken by his death.</p><p>Seconds later, Harry Potter returns to life.</p><p>The gathered souls around him are overcome by a hushed sense of awe, unable to understand what they are witnessing.</p><p>Susan Bones forms the belief that Harry Potter is not merely a heroic figure, but her new god. She is quick to promote this belief, which spreads through the Wizarding world like fire through a field of grain. It does not take long for Daphne Greengrass to share in this belief, while Pansy Parkinson doubts it, understanding that the man is more than his mystical achievements.</p><p>In time, she is unable to handle the strain of being consort to a nascent god, and leaves both Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass behind.</p><p>The triangle is broken.</p><p>Susan Bones steps forward to replace her.</p><p>The triangle is repaired, but it is not the same as it once was; it remains damaged, incomplete in a crucial way.</p><p>Harry Potter attracts followers beyond his friends and allies, as Wizards from all over the globe flock to surround the man who cannot be killed. A faction of Wizards from the nearby continent begin to enact a forceful campaign to promote the causes their new Lord believes in, and Harry Potter begins to develop a taste for enacting change through violence.</p><p>The discrete point in time when the change occurs is unclear, but without fail, Harry Potter becomes the latest in a history of Dark Lords. His grip over Magical Britain is ironclad, and none may act without his approval. The power corrupts him, and he begins to use forbidden magics to enforce his desires.</p><p>After some time, an orphaned girl rises from the shadows, carrying the sword of prophecy over her head.</p><p>She destroys Harry Potter, and the cycle of fate and revenge begins again.</p><p>The forbidden curse and Horcruxes become commonplace, as different Dark Rulers supplant each other.</p><p>Abomination reigns.</p><p>This is an unacceptable outcome.</p><p>The being turns its gaze from this possible future, and plucks at the tangled weave of fate, altering the events of the present slightly.</p><p>
  <span class="u">In this time and place, the forbidden curse strikes Harry Potter in his chest.</span>
</p><p>Another thread spins loose from this moment, where the curse rips through the lingering remnants of life-energy contained within Harry Potter’s armoured breastplate, a small, fiery fragment of a draconic soul.</p><p>Harry Potter is shaken by the impact, but stands tall, then disarms the assassin.</p><p>Harry Potter develops a new reputation, as a man who is difficult to kill, who has prepared counter-measures for even the most loathsome of magics.</p><p>His enemies begin to prepare strategies to circumvent this martial ability; ambushes, traps, and attacks reliant on immediate and overwhelming force.</p><p>It is one of these attempts that kills Daphne Greengrass.</p><p>The triangle is broken.</p><p>Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson descend into grief, and begin to inspire each other to seek greater and greater levels of magical ability, driving one another into a life-long pursuit of revenge against any enemy who might stand against them.</p><p>Two points, a line. As a symbol, a weapon.</p><p>Harry Potter retrieves the Elder Wand and wields it in open warfare once again, but unlike past attempts, his are successful. He is bolstered by the presence of Pansy Parkinson, who quickly becomes the most powerful witch in Magical Britain.</p><p>In time, they run out of enemies to pursue, and turn their sights to overcoming death.</p><p>Using the Resurrection Stone and his unique magical status, Harry Potter develops a new kind of forbidden ritual: one that closely resembles the creation of “Horcruxes”. He creates a way to crack souls, to fill the gaps with fragments of similarly-broken souls, rather than stored in hollow objects or attached to whole souls.</p><p>He and Pansy bind their souls to each other, a perversion of the rituals by which souls would ordinarily be bonded. This atrocity leaves both as lesser than they had been, even as two become one.  </p><p>One. A point. Singularity. The centre of surrounding lines.</p><p>It does not take long for this broken, chimeric being to recruit others to its existence; what remains of Harry Potter sees this as a way to protect his friends and loved ones. It is impossible to determine when the last remnants of Harry Potter fade from the world, for the collective aberration lingers for a long, long time.</p><p>A new form of abomination.</p><p>This outcome cannot be allowed to happen.</p><p>
  <span class="u">In this time and place, the forbidden curse strikes Harry Potter in his chest.</span>
</p><p>Golden flames erupt from his body as he unleashes a primal force of Creation once again. The effects of the curse are scoured from existence in the very moment before it touches his soul, but the assassin has time to produce the forbidden spell a second time.</p><p>In his panic, the assassin misses his intended target.</p><p>The curse strikes Susan Bones, who has moved to defend Daphne Greengrass. She dies.</p><p>Harry Potter grows wrathful, and casts the forbidden curse, killing the assassin.</p><p>He declares his intent to strike down any who would think to stand against him. Where he had been cautious, thoughtful, he becomes reckless and implacable. Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson find themselves unable to keep up with his new drive.</p><p>The triangle is damaged.</p><p>Over time, Harry Potter begins to wield the full extent of his powers, and Fleur Delacour is brought into his life on a permanent basis.</p><p>The triangle becomes a diamond.</p><p>Fleur Delacour is a minor spirit of Fire and Air, of Fertility and Life. As with when he accessed Soul-fire, Harry Potter is driven to use these powers for war, as a manifestation of Destruction, rather than Creation.</p><p>The diamond is fragile, prone to shattering.</p><p>Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter become an unstoppable force, hunting down and slaying their enemies wherever they reside. Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson are unable to keep up with the development of Harry’s magic, and find themselves placed on the edges of their diagram.</p><p>Two points become a line, and the line cleaves the diamond in half.</p><p>Over time, Harry Potter draws upon all the magics available to him, whether a false mastery, the aberrations of House Black, or the dark fire that surges through his veins. In an old kingdom, he treats with one who uses blood to stave off the end of his life, Vlad Drakul.</p><p>Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour change, becoming closer to dragons cast into a human-like form than their true, mortal selves.</p><p>The years pass, and Harry Potter is never without enemies to fight. One particularly vexing foe rises in Magical Britain, and Fleur Delacour perishes in combat with her. Harry Potter survives, and is triumphant.</p><p>More years pass. His enemies grow fewer.</p><p>Many years pass. Any of his friends, lovers, or allies that he now only vaguely remembers have long passed from the world, but Harry Potter persists.</p><p>The years continue to pass without number. It is difficult to ascertain, but at some point, Harry Potter is no longer a human soul.</p><p>He is ancient, fearsomely powerful, and the first soul who could reasonably lay claim to true immortality.</p><p>Harry Potter is a singular point, isolated beyond even the reach of Death.</p><p>When he finally learns how to die, the world perishes alongside him.</p><p>This thread of time and fate is an abomination worse than any other possibility. It cannot come to pass.</p><p>The being returns its thoughts to the point of origin, where it currently observes.</p><p>
  <span class="u">In this time and place, the forbidden curse strikes Harry Potter in his chest.</span>
</p><p>The being takes wing, traversing the rivers of time just as easily as it flies through space. It travels in a way that would be perceived as backwards, alighting to a point before Harry Potter is struck by the curse.</p><p>
  <span class="u">In this time and place, the forbidden curse leaves the assassin’s wand.</span>
</p><p>From this vantage point, the being peers into other possible worlds; in every possible outcome, the assassin’s forbidden curse strikes down a living soul, and the consequences are grave.</p><p>The being could retreat further into the events already woven, unravel pieces of the future in order to craft a new tapestry, but to do so would be unpredictable, chaotic. The being is fully capable of viewing the new future which would result from such a drastic measure, but to do so would be to speak its truth into existence, inexorably leading Harry Potter down a single path.</p><p>As with many of the matters surrounding Harry Potter, his life is a complicated one, and the thread spiraling loose from this event is tangled and interwoven to fate, to Magic, Life, and to Death.</p><p>The forbidden curse must strike something; in no past, present, or future does the assassin harmlessly miss, and to bring attention to him before he can begin his attack would require the being to step in to interfere, a step well being beyond what it is willing to do.</p><p>But perhaps there is another option.</p><p>The forbidden curse will strike something, and the body in which this being currently resides is a tangible, physical thing, made of flesh and feathers, blood and bones.</p><p>It plucks another thread, peers into the futures which might be.</p><p>There are many possible worlds which branch from this point, if it were to occur. The being could, if it chose, determine which would be the most likely, but it has always found the forks and paths resulting from mortal will to be a fascinating diversion.</p><p>When it comes to Harry Potter, the possibilities surrounding his future paths are particularly fascinating; beyond even the proliferation of abomination, it would be a great loss to this realm if Harry Potter’s life were to be forced down the paths the being has observed.</p><p>The being glimpses into the different possibilities that might result from a different present, ascertaining whether these futures are so hopeless.</p><p>There are no guarantees, but in many of these futures, the triangle stays solid. A sigil of power, of protection.</p><p>In some, it becomes a diamond.</p><p>In others, a pentagram.</p><p>In the path which the being finds most preferable, the triangle is surrounded by a circle, which in turn is bordered by two lines.</p><p>The being finds this inversion of a familiar sigil to be amusing, in its own way; a contradiction which makes perfect sense.</p><p>It makes a decision to interfere. This is necessary to prevent the world from falling into disrepair, to protect the tapestry of the world from being unraveled by abomination.</p><p>The white raven lifts its wings.</p><p>Dᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ғʟɪɢʜᴛ.</p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Secrets are revealed</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back to normal chapters</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p><em>As time crawled slowly onwards, and the curse drew ever-closer, Harry exhaled his final breath</em>.</p><p>He heard the fluttering of wings, and in a flash of white, the white raven which had been following him around all evening appeared from nowhere, diving into the path of the Killing Curse. There was an explosion of green, and the bird vanished.</p><p>Harry’s head spun as he hazily processed what just happened.</p><p><em>That raven, </em>he realized, as he watched white feathers hanging in the air like a strange kind of snow, <em>just took the Killing Curse for me. </em></p><p>Before Selwyn could react to that development, or cast the Killing Curse again, Harry disarmed the man with a thought. The attempted assassin’s wand clattered to the floor.</p><p><em>Fuck, </em>Harry thought, <em>why am I so out of it right now?</em></p><p>His thoughts still felt somewhat out of place in his own head. It reminded him of the past; both when that he’d used a time-turner with Hermione, and somehow, unsettlingly, of the time he’d returned to life at the Battle of Hogwarts.</p><p><em>I guess I got a bit too close to dying again, </em>Harry wondered, as he flicked his hand, pulling Selwyn’s wand safely out of the man’s reach.</p><p>Harry heard Artaxes Carrow bellow something, and a crushing pressure drove down from on top of Harry, as if some kind of spell was trying to force him to his knees. He staggered, but remained upright. All around him, the other guests of the party dropped to the floor; Harry supposed that Lord Carrow had used some sort of hearth-charm to put a stop to the conflict that had just erupted.</p><p><em>Not that it’s much of a conflict, </em>Harry pondered, <em>Selwyn’s disarmed and down, after he managed to kill a bird instead of Daphne or me.</em></p><p>“Your fall is foretold!” Selwyn cried out across the room, apparently still willing to fight from his knees, “the elder has seen your death!”</p><p><em>The elder? Elder Wand? </em>Harry was at a loss to explain his words, and the fuzziness of his thoughts wasn’t helping, <em>no, that doesn’t sound right.</em></p><p>He wasn’t sure why he thought of the Deathly Hallows before anything else, but there was something about this whole bizarre situation that reminded Harry of those days.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe I’m getting a flashback from seeing the Killing Curse used again?</em>
</p><p>“Your bane has already been born!” Selwyn shrieked, and lifted his hand slowly, fighting against the effects of Artaxes’ spell.</p><p>Harry pointed his own wand at the man, unconvinced that he’d be able to be a threat while wandless <em>(surprised he could even manage to cast the Killing Curse, really, someone must have helped him with Dark magic), </em>only for Selwyn to wrap his hand around his own throat.</p><p><em>No, don’t! </em>Harry thought.</p><p>Selwyn snarled a curse of some kind, and a gout of blood sprayed from between his fingers.</p><p>By the time that Harry had crossed the floor, trying to reach Selwyn and staunch his bleeding (<em>he’s our only lead right now), </em>the man had already died.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. That’s one way to make sure he can’t talk. </em>
</p><p>As Harry’s thoughts finally began to get a little bit clearer, he turned his gaze to the only other person in the room still on his feet, Artaxes Carrow. Artaxes looked somewhat shaken, but the party’s host seemed to be holding up better than most would in his situation <em>(what with assassins appearing in his home and all).</em></p><p>“Potter,” Lord Carrow spoke, “are there more of them?”</p><p>“Dunno,” Harry replied, as he blinked to dispel the last remnants of his hazy confusion, “there was a tall bloke I didn’t recognize, blonde, scars on his face. You know him?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Artaxes replied, “I bound him the moment I realized what was happening. I am also unfamiliar with who that man is.”</p><p>“Call in the Aurors,” Harry commanded, “you’ll probably want to drop your wards so that they can get here sooner.”</p><p>“That won’t be an issue any more,” Artaxes gave Harry a long look, “you rather thoroughly dismantled my wards, after all. My gratitude for that, by the way; clearly, they were insufficient to protect the guests whose safety I had sworn to keep.”</p><p><em>Right, yeah, the whole “guest rights” tradition that Purebloods have, </em>Harry recalled.</p><p>A paranoid part of him wondered if Artaxes might have been in on this conspiracy, but at least from an initial impression, Harry thought that (<em>by Artaxes’ standards) </em>the man was practically trembling with rage.</p><p>
  <em>We’ll have to look into him, of course, but it seems like he’s offended that these fuckers would have tried something in <strong>his </strong>home. </em>
</p><p>“Call off your spell?” Harry suggested.</p><p>“If you think it is safe,” Artaxes answered, “for the time being, I defer to you on these matters, Lord Potter-Black. My experience with real bloodshed is limited.”</p><p>Harry walked over to where the blonde stranger was, indeed, bound by an <em>Incarcerous </em>charm, and used his foot to prod the man’s prone form, tipping him over. The stranger had a bloody nose, and seemed to be unconscious.</p><p><em>Knocked himself out when Artaxes used that spell to force everyone to the floor, </em>Harry realized, <em>couldn’t catch himself, and face-planted hard enough to break his nose.</em></p><p>“Yeah, call it off,” Harry ordered, “this bloke’s unconscious.”</p><p>Artaxes barked another word that Harry didn’t know, and he felt the vague pressure at his back cease in an instant. All around the party, guests started to stand to their feet, looking around in a panic, or starting to rush towards doorways.</p><p>“<strong>Nobody’s leaving!” </strong>Harry let his voice boom with a <em>Sonorous </em>charm, <strong>“until the Aurors get here and clear each of you, stay right where you are.”</strong></p><p>There was some grumbling through the crowd, but generally speaking, people listened to him.</p><p><em>For once, </em>Harry mused grimly.</p><p>“Fuck,” Sue made her way over to him, “that was almost a fucking disaster. That’s my fault, I missed that Selwyn showed up in the first place. Fucking shite, fuck.”</p><p>“Not your fault,” Harry replied to his eloquent friend, dropping his voice low enough so that only she could hear him, “I missed marking him too, barely got in the way in time to keep Daph alive.”</p><p>“How’d you manage that, anyway?” Sue looked at him with an odd expression on her face, “I heard him get an ‘A-K’ off, did he miss? Or did you… did you manage to block it, somehow?”</p><p>“Got lucky,” Harry admitted, “one of the ravens here flew into its path.”</p><p>
  <em>Then again, I was already in its path.</em>
</p><p>Harry’s chest twinged with a phantom pain, and his thoughts flashed with the image of himself being struck by the Killing Curse instead, as if he vaguely remembered something that never actually happened.  </p><p>There was a loud ‘<em>Crack’ </em>that made Harry jump a bit, until he recognized Robards appearing in the center of the room, and the following staccato sounds of apparition announced the arrival of the rest of his Aurors.</p><p>“Oi,” Susan yelled out, “over here, this one in ropes is suspect number one.”</p><p><em>Good, </em>Harry thought, <em>they’ll get to the bottom of this.</em></p><p>Once the Aurors figured out who was responsible for sending someone to kill Daphne, Harry was going to tear them apart. Whoever they were.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p><em>Fuck, fuck, fuck, </em>she thought, <em>what the fuck happened?</em></p><p>Everything had changed so quickly; one moment, Pansy was joking around with Blaise. The next, she heard screaming, the world spun under her feet as Harry surged into action, there was a flash of green, and then an unseen hand shoved her to the floor.</p><p>Things only became slightly clearer after the fact: it seemed that one of the men who Harry had defeated in his duel at the Winter Solstice Gala had made an attempt on Daphne’s life; Harry intervened <em>(successfully, thank fucking Merlin); </em>and then the would-be assassin killed himself rather than be interrogated.</p><p>Aurors swarmed through the site of what <em>had </em>been a perfectly-adequate party, pulling people aside at times, or pointing out specific figures. Pansy feared that she was going to be spending the night in a holding cell, as she wasn’t exactly the <em>least </em>suspicious person in the room, in the eyes of the public.</p><p>She saw a familiar, disliked face – <em>Auror Savage </em>– in the group of Aurors. The man was in one of his apparently-signature beige jackets, and it didn’t take him long to take notice of Pansy in turn. She saw him turn to another Auror, mutter something to the brunette witch, and then Savage pointed in her direction.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>The woman walked over without delay, and Pansy did her best not to fret under this attention.</p><p>“Pansy Parkinson?” the Auror asked.</p><p>“That’s me,” Pansy confirmed.</p><p>“You’re free to go,” the woman, shockingly, told her, “Savage says you’re already cleared.”</p><p><em>Well, </em>Pansy thought, <em>was not expecting that. </em></p><p>She gave Blaise a rueful smile, then made her way towards one of the exits. As soon as she was outside, she apparated directly to 12 Grimmauld Place; there was absolutely no way that Pansy was going to be alone tonight <em>(nor Harry or Daphne). </em></p><p>It took several long, agonizing minutes <em>(which felt like hours)</em> until Daphne appeared in the lounge, and Pansy ran to her as soon as her girlfriend appeared.</p><p>“Daph!” she cried, “fuck, you’re okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne sobbed in reply, “I’m fine, I’m fine, Pans. What the fuck happened?”</p><p>“Someone tried to kill you,” Pansy felt hot tears running from the corners of her eyes, “thank fucking <strong><em>fuck </em></strong>that Harry got there in time.”</p><p>“How did he…” Daphne choked down another sob, “I saw it, Pans. That man, he cast the Killing Curse, then all of a sudden, Harry was standing in front of me. In front of the curse.”</p><p>“It’s Harry,” Pansy said, “and he’s fine. You saw him, he was bossing Aurors around and everything, whatever he did, it’s going to be okay, we’re all here, we’re all alive.”</p><p>“Why would… why would someone try to kill me?” Daphne had a veritable fountain of tears running down her face.</p><p>“I dunno,” Pansy answered, “but when we find out who it was, I’m going to kill them.”</p><p>“You can’t,” Daphne protested.</p><p>“You’re right,” Pansy admitted, “no way I’d get there before Harry does.”</p><p>“Pansy, I-“ Daphne started to sob again, “I think Harry tried to take the curse for me.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Pansy pulled her girlfriend close, and ran her fingers gently through her hair, “it’s Harry. That’s kind of his whole thing.”</p><p>“Trying to die for me?”</p><p>“He didn’t, though,” Pansy argued, “he’s Harry fucking Potter, if anyone has a way of blocking the Killing Curse, it’d be him, you know that.”</p><p>“I don’t think it was that,” Daphne said, “I didn’t really see what happened… but I didn’t see him cast any spells. He just stood there, Pans, like he was ready to die.”</p><p><em>I’d have done the same thing, sweet, </em>Pansy thought, but she knew that voicing this idea wasn’t going to improve Daphne’s mood any.</p><p>Pansy might not have been able to understand Harry’s more heroic side, but if it came down to her life measured against either Daphne’s or his? She <em>completely </em>understood his willingness to be the one to sacrifice themselves. Pansy knew the world was a better place with both Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass in it, and she would have been willing to give up her own life to guarantee that.</p><p>With a ‘<em>crack’, </em>the man in question appeared in the room, and Harry made a soft, choking sound as he rushed over to join in the girls’ embrace.</p><p><em>Doesn’t matter, anyways, </em>Pansy thought, as she opened her arms to wrap one of them around Harry’s back, the three of them intertwined and sobbing in the middle of the lounge, <em>we’re all here, we’re all alive, and that’s the only thing that fucking matters. </em></p><p>There would be time to burn the world down later: for now, Pansy had to be strong for the two people she loved.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>As the evening dragged on, and her jagged, frayed nerves started to repair themselves, Daphne couldn’t shake the knowledge that she had to talk to Harry about what she’d witnessed.</p><p>“Harry,” she bit the bullet and started to express her fears, “can you tell me, what, exactly, happened tonight?”</p><p>“Uh,” he jumped as if startled, “well, pretty much what it looked like? That Selwyn bloke tried to kill you, Daph, but we got lucky. I’ll get to the bottom of who sent him, I promise.”</p><p>“It’s not about that,” Daphne clarified, “I mean… you jumped in front of the Killing Curse, Harry. What on earth were you thinking?”</p><p>“I had to save you,” Harry frowned, “it was all I could do at the time, it took me too long to get past Carrow’s wards.”</p><p>“Kind of bizarre, that,” Pansy added in, “to have an ancient Lord <em>thank </em>you for carving up the ancestral defenses of his home.”</p><p>“Not like they did the job they were supposed to,” Harry muttered.</p><p>“Harry,” Daphne took his hands in hers, as a gesture to make it clear she was imploring him to listen, “<em>why </em>did you put yourself in the path of a Killing Curse? Did you know that it was going to hit that raven?”</p><p>“Er,” Harry mumbled, as he ran his thumb idly over her knuckles, “not so much, no. We got lucky with that, too.”</p><p>“So you intended for the curse to hit <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“Kinda, yeah,” Harry shrugged, but it wasn’t as relaxed a gesture as his shrugs usually were, “I know how that sounds, but, well… yeah, I’d rather it hit me instead of you.”</p><p>“<em>Harry</em>,” Daphne begged, “you are far, far too important to die. You can’t sacrifice yourself for me, if it ever comes down to it.”</p><p>“No,” Harry’s frown grew deeper, “that’s not true. If it comes down to it, and I’m praying it doesn’t, I’d do the same thing again. In a heartbeat.”</p><p>“<em>Why!?” </em></p><p>“There’d be no point in living without you two,” Harry said, “fuck, I realize how that sounds, sorry for being all morose and all, but, yeah. Guess there’s no other way to say it, I’d rather die for you than live without you. Same for you, Pans.”</p><p>“How romantic,” Pansy drawled, “as much as I hate to say it, Daph, the same goes for me. If I had to choose between me and one of you, it’s not a hard call for me to make.”</p><p>Her head spun at the implications. Sure, Daphne absolutely dreaded the idea of outliving either of her partners, and even considering whole scenario shook her to her very core, but, if it came to it, in the heat of the moment? She wasn’t sure if she’d react by sacrificing herself without even thinking of it.</p><p>“Besides,” Harry argued, “I was wearing my dragonhide. Can’t say for sure, and I don’t exactly <em>plan </em>to test it out, but there’s a chance I might’ve been able to survive getting hit.”</p><p>“Did you think of that,” Daphne asked, “when you appeared in front of me?”</p><p>“Um, not particularly.”</p><p>“So,” Daphne felt tears in her eyes all over again, “you were <em>planning </em>to die?”</p><p>“Wasn’t planning on it,” Harry spoke softly, “it’s just, it was the only thing I could come up with.”</p><p>“Do you,” Daphne choked on her words briefly, “do you <em>want </em>to die? Harry, you’re scaring me.”</p><p>“No, not at all,” Harry had started to tear up as well, “I want to live, I want to spend my life with the two of you, but things don’t always work out the way we want, and I know that.”</p><p>“Daph,” Pansy interjected, “I hate to say it, but if you’re expecting Harry to <em>not </em>be a noble, self-sacrificing sort, you might be out of luck on that front.”</p><p>“I just can’t understand it,” Daphne admitted, “how could you be so fearless? Death is final, Harry, we’d lose you <em>forever</em>.”</p><p>“Not really,” Harry smiled sadly, “I’d be waiting for you on the other side.”</p><p>“Think there’s an ‘other side’, do you?” Pansy shrugged, “I can’t say for certain, really, but I’ve always kind of assumed that this life is pretty much it.”</p><p>“No, there’s definitely an afterlife,” Harry nodded to himself, “and I can absolutely promise you, even if I die, you’ll see me again.”</p><p>“How could you possibly know that?” Daphne wondered, “Harry, in all the history of magic, nobody has ever managed to perform a resurrection. We might call our magical presence a ‘soul’, and it seems as if that energy can linger after death, as ghosts or other spectres, but there’s no proof that there’s a world past this one.”</p><p>“There is,” Harry’s faith seemed ironclad, “I promise. I’m not saying this lightly, I swear to you both, on my life, on everything, even if I <em>do </em>wind up dying earlier than I’d like, it won’t be the end of us.”</p><p>“How can you swear that!?” Daphne begged, “Harry, what do you know that we don’t?”</p><p>“Well,” he let out a long, shuddering sigh, “I’ve seen it.”</p><p>
  <em>What.</em>
</p><p>A long, silent moment of shock lingered in the room, as Pansy and Daphne tried to process what Harry had just revealed.</p><p>“You’ve… seen it?” Daphne tried and failed to find the words to express her distress, “the afterlife?”</p><p>“Look, um,” Harry went quiet for a few long seconds, then continued, “let’s just say, even if the Killing Curse got past the dragonhide, I’m, uh, I’m not so sure that it would work on me.”</p><p>“The ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ thing?” Pansy wondered, “are you somehow immune to that curse?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say immune,” Harry chuckled without any mirth in it, “the first time, it was some special circumstances. The second time, it worked just fine, but it didn’t take.”</p><p>“Harry,” Daphne sobbed, “what are you saying?”</p><p>“I think you two deserve to know the truth,” Harry confessed, before sighing sadly once again, “during the war, you know when Voldemort thought he’d killed me, and I pulled that whole ‘surprise, I’m alive’ trick?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pansy hummed. It was hard to forget one of the most iconic moments in Wizarding history, in Daphne’s opinion.</p><p>“Well, it wasn’t entirely a trick,” Harry took a moment, and a couple tears fell from his eyes in the interim, “he <em>did </em>kill me. Hit me with the Killing Curse, dropped me like a stone.”</p><p>“<em>What!?</em>” Pansy shrieked, “Harry, that’s…”</p><p>“Impossible?” Harry shrugged, “hate to say it, but when it comes to my life, ‘impossible’ seems to be more like a suggestion. Yeah. I died, saw some of the world that comes after, talked to Dumbledore and everything. Then I came back.”</p><p>“You came back.” Daphne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This wasn’t just one of the ‘he’s abnormally strong with magic’ things about Harry, this was literally unheard-of, the stuff of myths and legends.</p><p>“Yup,” Harry sighed, “I didn’t <em>fully </em>die, I think… the place I went to, it was more like a waystation, a point before the world that comes after. Maybe it’s because I didn’t leave all the way, or maybe it’s because of, well, some other things about me, but even though Voldemort killed me, it wasn’t enough to keep me away.”</p><p>“What other things about you?” Daphne was tired of these half-mentioned revelations, and while she’d normally respect Harry’s need to keep some things about the war hidden, she just couldn’t bear to leave this a mystery.</p><p>“Have you two,” Harry muttered, “ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?”</p><p>“The old children’s tale?” Pansy wondered, “three wizards managed to scam the grim reaper into giving them each a boon, right?”</p><p>“Something like that,” Harry nodded.</p><p>“That’s just a fable, isn’t it?” Daphne’s entire understanding of the magical world was falling apart, “there’s endless variations on that story, like there’s ones where they get a ring, a cauldron, and a sword, but others where they get a knife, a horn, and a cloak.”</p><p>“Actually,” Harry hummed, “it’s a cloak, a ring, and a wand, so there’s a bit of truth in those legends, I suppose.”</p><p>“They’re real?” Pansy gasped.</p><p>Harry, in response, withdrew his hands from Daphne’s, and thrust one of his palms into the air. After a few moments, there was a soft <em>whump </em>sound, but she couldn’t see what he’d just done.</p><p>“Watch this,” Harry’s explanation didn’t help.</p><p>Then, without reason, her boyfriend vanished into thin air. Daphne gasped, and nearly fainted when his head – and only his head – reappeared, floating in front of her.</p><p>“This one’s the Cloak of Invisibility,” Harry said, “one of three Deathly Hallows. The others are called the Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand. The stone lets you summon ghosts, kind of, and the wand is supposed to make you unbeatable in combat.”</p><p>“You’re…” Daphne knew the legends, of course she did, “you’re the Master of Death, aren’t you.”</p><p>“So they say,” Harry’s head bobbed, as if he had shrugged, but the rest of his body was still invisible, “I don’t keep the Resurrection Stone or Elder Wand around, but if I had to, I could retrieve them, I guess.”</p><p>“Wait…” Pansy frowned, deep in thought, “how does the wand work?”</p><p>“Like any other, really,” Harry must have slipped the Cloak off, as he reappeared entirely, “I’ve only used it once, but it seemed to make advanced magic a bit easier. Repaired my own wand with it, then put it aside.”</p><p>“Does it have an allegiance to its wielder, like other wands do?” Pansy wondered.</p><p>“Sure does,” Harry shrugged, “that might be part of the reason that Voldemort couldn’t kill me, actually; I was technically its ‘owner’ when he used it to cast a Killing Curse.”</p><p>“That’s why you refuse to duel us, in training,” Pansy realized, “you don’t want us accidentally becoming its master.”</p><p>“It’s not that I don’t trust you with its power, or anything like that,” Harry confirmed, “it’s just… it’s not the most pleasant burden, really.”</p><p>“There’s so much I don’t understand,” Daphne sighed, “Harry, my love, I’m sorry, really, if this is too much, but I have to know: you’ve vaguely alluded to some sort of ‘fate’ before, something to do with fighting the former Dark Lord, what is that about?”</p><p>“Ah, that,” Harry screwed up his face in concentration, before reciting something from memory:</p><p>
  <em>“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal; but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”</em>
</p><p>“Well, that describes your birthday, alright,” Pansy hummed, “I assume your parents ‘thrice defied’ him?”</p><p>“Afraid so,” Harry muttered, “so, yeah. My role in the fight against Voldemort wasn’t because of my ‘hero thing’, or really even because of anything that I decided, it was quite literally my destiny to defeat him.”</p><p>“Harry…” Daphne mulled the words over in her head, “Voldemort couldn’t kill you. The prophecy said that ‘either must die at the hand of the other’…”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Are you…” she dreaded to ask the question, “<em>can </em>you die? Are you immortal!?”</p><p>“Fuck, I sure hope not,” Harry goggled at the question, “like, I know what I said earlier, and why you’re worried, it’s not like I’m <em>looking </em>to die right away, but, well, I sure don’t want to live forever.”</p><p>“I want to see my family again, some day,” he’d started to cry again, and Daphne couldn’t help but draw him into her embrace, “I want to see Sirius, Fred, Dobby, Hedwig, everyone that I’ve lost.”</p><p>Daphne didn’t know who ‘Dobby’ was, but they must have been important to Harry, so their memory had just become important to her, in turn.</p><p>“The part about ‘marking you as his equal’,” Pansy added in, as she moved to join Daphne in holding Harry, “is that about magical power? I don’t think it’s a bad thing if that’s why you’re as strong as you are…”</p><p>“I wish,” Harry choked out, “no, that was the worst part.”</p><p>“You can tell us,” Daphne reassured him, “if you want to. You’ve revealed a lot already, Harry, you don’t have to push yourself to breaking if this is too much.”</p><p>“No, I need to tell you,” Harry decided, “do either of you know what a Horcrux is?”</p><p>Daphne had never heard the term. She turned to Pansy, who shook her head slowly.</p><p>“They’re horrible, awful things,” Harry described, “the Darkest of Dark Magic, actually. There’s a ritual where, if you murder an innocent, you can break off part of your soul. Stick that piece into something else, and it acts like an anchor, it keeps your soul stuck on earth even if you die.”</p><p>“That’s horrific,” Daphne gasped, “did…” <em>fuck it, Harry deserves some bravery from me, </em>“did Voldemort make one of those?”</p><p>“No,” Harry explained, “he made <em>seven.</em>”</p><p>“No wonder the fucker wouldn’t stay dead,” Pansy’s bluntness was appreciated, “but how does that relate to you, other than, I assume, you destroyed them?”</p><p>“That’s the thing,” Harry leaned back, and took a deep inhale, “the seventh one he made? It was an accident. When he killed my parents, he fucked up, and wound up putting part of his soul in <em>me</em>.”</p><p>Harry pointed to his forehead, where his signature lightning-bolt scar had mostly faded, but was still faintly visible.</p><p>“That’s why I’m so fucking scared I might go Dark, that I might find power too tempting,” Harry explained, “until I was seventeen, I had a piece of fucking Voldemort literally in my head. I’ve got no fucking idea how badly that fucked me up. No clue what I might become, even now.”</p><p>“It didn’t,” Pansy spoke, and Daphne was surprised to hear the absolute certainty in her voice, “whatever the magical bullshit involved, there’s no fucking way that you could be as amazing as you are if you were secretly under the influence of the Dark fucking Lord. I can’t imagine what that was like, finding that out, but you are <strong>you</strong>, Harry, he doesn’t have any hold on you any more. He never did. You’re going to be whoever you damn well want to be, and we’re going to be here for you the whole time.”</p><p>“Thanks, Pans,” Harry choked, “god, I love you two.”</p><p>“I love you too,” Daphne reassured him, and reached out to stroke his hair, “you know, maybe that horrible accident was actually a blessing in disguise,” she speculated, “when he tried to kill you, he… killed part of himself, instead?”</p><p>“Could be,” Harry admitted, “there’s probably a lot of different reasons why I was able to come back. Still not hoping to put it to the test any time soon, all I’m saying is, seems like the Killing Curse has a remarkably inaccurate name, when it comes to me.”</p><p><em>He was ready to die for me, </em>Daphne was certain, <em>even if he’s saying that he might have survived it, somehow, he doesn’t really believe that. </em></p><p>“I think we’ve all gone through a lot, tonight,” Pansy interjected, and she certainly seemed shaken as well, “Harry, love, is there anything else that you <em>want </em>to tell us right now, or would you rather that we stop talking about this?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Harry mumbled, “I think I’m getting pretty close to tapped out, but I don’t wanna keep secrets.”</p><p>“I think we’ve heard enough,” Daphne decided, “you’re very brave, Harry, for sharing those things with us. I can’t… I don’t know what it was like, but I can see how hard it was to tell us, and I don’t think we need to push any further tonight.”</p><p>“Let’s go to bed,” Pansy decided, “let’s just… be there for each other for a bit, yeah? Remember that we <em>are </em>alive, and we’re going to keep living for quite a while yet, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry smiled sadly, “I guess I am. Thank you, both of you. I haven’t told anyone else all of that, it kind of feels good to get it out.”</p><p>“No matter what,” Daphne held his hand, “no matter the secrets you have, or the magic around you, we are here for you, Harry Potter. We love you, and you love us, and that’s the only thing that matters right now.”</p><p>It was true. Even with how much her entire worldview had been shaken, how the mysteries of Magic had just become inexplicably deeper, Daphne could put all of that aside in favour of holding her partners in her arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, that was a whole doozy and a half! </p><p>I hope this chapter helps to clear up some of the lingering mysteries from the last couple, and just to be clear, the rest of this fic is going to remain centered around "earthly" matters - I'm not swerving into an entirely different genre for good, just as a brief interlude last time!</p><p>This was a big step for the trio, and in the way I picture this series, the conversation they had at the end of the chapter was one of the more momentous events in their relationship. </p><p>The next chapters will get back to the political/conspiracy plotline, but I wanted this one to make it clear that, even with different plots happening and weird magical phenomena going on, the most important focus of this entire series is the trio's relationship. </p><p>Let me know what you thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Spine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Susan</span>
</p><p>
  <em>The Night of Lord Carrow’s Party</em>
</p><p>“Get anything useful yet?” Robards asked, a cup of his signature half-cold coffee in hand.</p><p>“Not really, no,” Susan replied, “he’s been remarkably ‘helpful’ in describing how he came to meet Geoffrey Selwyn, but he claims that it was a strictly social visit, and he had no clue that Selwyn had anything sinister planned.”</p><p>The man who’d shown up under Selwyn’s invitation– Konrad Grünfeld – was clearly a foreigner <em>(if his name isn’t a clue and a half on its own, </em>Susan thought), who claimed to have met Geoffrey Selwyn at a high-society event in Vienna, and been enraptured by Selwyn’s story of duelling against <em>the </em>Harry Potter.</p><p>To hear him say it, Konrad had accepted an invite back to Magical Britain as part of an idea that he might be able to meet this legendary figure and challenge Harry to a “friendly” duel of his own, no more than an idle lark between young rich Purebloods, according to him.</p><p><em>If only we still had a legilimens or two worth their salt under Auror employ, </em>Susan bemoaned, <em>we could get a peek at the truth of that, or at least figure out if there’s any point in giving Konrad here some Veritaserum. </em></p><p>The man seemed far too unbothered by the fact that his new buddy had tried to assassinate Daphne, and followed this heinous attempt up by proclaiming some sort of “prophecy”, then killing himself. <em>That </em>didn’t seem like typical idle rich git shenanigans to Susan, but all of Konrad’s papers were in order, and they were rapidly running out of justifications to keep him imprisoned.</p><p>The doors to the Auror’s basement swept open, and one of the last people that Susan had either expected or hoped to see strode into the room: Cyrus Greengrass.</p><p>“Lord Greengrass,” Robards greeted him, “the Aurors are presently occupied with an active investigation, we would be happy to book an appointment-“</p><p>“I presume,” Greengrass interrupted, “that you have Selwyn’s associate in custody?”</p><p>“As I said,” Robards replied, “we are currently engaged in an investigation. While I do not wish to seem unhospitable, I am afraid that your presence is not currently required here.”</p><p>“Mister Robards,” Greengrass seemed more ‘lordly’ than Susan thought she’d ever seen him, even when he puffed himself up at the Wizengamot, “from what I have been informed of, an attempt was made on the life of Daphne Greengrass. While my daughter and I may have had our disagreements, those are simply private family matters; she remains a member of House Greengrass, and as such, it is my right to be informed if there are those who would strike against our family.”</p><p>Susan had a <em>lot </em>of thoughts about “private family matters”, in that context, but she remained silent, since she wasn’t the authority in the room at this moment.</p><p>“Be that as it may,” Robards waved a hand, “for a third time, the investigation is ongoing. We will happily inform you as to our findings.”</p><p>“The one you have in custody,” Greengrass continued, undeterred, “German, no? Tall, blonde, gives off a somewhat aristocratic impression?”</p><p>Robards hummed noncommittally.</p><p>“<em>Herr </em>Konrad Grünfeld, if I have it correct,” Greengrass spat the words, “a member of what we would consider to be a ‘Most Noble’ House. In fact, an offshoot of mine own house, descended from a relative who left Magical Britain centuries ago.”</p><p><em>Should have traced the family tree, </em>Susan realized, <em>or, y’know, put together “Green Fields” as a last name…</em></p><p>“I would speak to him, if you’d please,” Greengrass growled, “I believe that I can apply certain pressures which your Aurors are unable to, which may prove to loosen his tongue.”</p><p>Robards pondered the suggestion for several long moments.</p><p>“Let Lord Greengrass into the room,” he decided, “but, Lord Greengrass, I should inform you, we will be recording notes during your conversation with Herr Grünfeld.”</p><p>“I would expect no less,” Cyrus swept his cloak over his shoulders, and in doing so, flashed the Greengrass signet ring he wore on his right hand, “I rather hope that, if Grünfeld is not so innocent as he might claim, the full degree of punishments that are your domain shall be applied to him.”</p><p>Susan wasn’t sure what to make of this development. She thought of raising some kind of concern to Robards, but couldn’t figure out how to phrase it other than “<em>something seems a bit fucky, don’t it?”.</em></p><p>The British Lord was led through the doors into the room where his German relative sat. Outside, through a pane of enchanted glass, Susan and Robards watched the conversation unfold.</p><p>“Herr Grünfeld<em>,</em>” Cyrus spoke as soon as he entered, “I trust that you know who I am?”</p><p>“Lord Greengrass,” the other man replied in his deep voice, his accent a precisely perfect version of received pronunciation, “you are the patriarch of our family within these lands, yes?”</p><p>“I am the patriarch of our family within <em>all </em>lands, boy,” Cyrus took a seat, “you might consider your House one with an ancient history, but yours is naught but a branch which has sprung from <em>my </em>tree. Explain yourself.”</p><p>“It is as I have told the Aurors,” Grünfeld seemed unconcerned, “I recently made the acquaintance of Geoffrey Selwyn, and he spoke to me of his duel with one Harry Potter – Lord Potter-Black, I believe, by your titulature – which rather impressed me. Mister Selwyn had promised that he could grant me an opportunity to issue an informal, casual challenge where I might test Mister Potter’s mettle for myself, but I had no idea he intended something so… dramatic.”</p><p>“As Lord Greengrass,” Cyrus replied, “if I believe that you have acted against my House, I will have no hesitation issuing a Blood Feud. I will burn your little branch from the family tree, and I will make use of every considerable asset at my disposal to ensure that there will never be another Grünfeld after yourself. Tell me, would your own Lord Father be willing to go to war for you?”</p><p>“I-“ Grünfeld began, “let us not be hasty, Lord Greengrass. I have no quarrel with your House, nor any who share my blood.”</p><p>“Then explain why,” Cyrus snarled, “your ‘associate’ saw fit to attempt to murder my daughter.”</p><p>“I cannot account for Mister Selwyn’s actions,” Grünfeld put his hands up, trying to placate Cyrus, “all that he told me was that he intended to provoke her, somehow, and that Lord Potter-Black would likely intervene. This was meant to be our ploy; Lord Potter-Black would issue a challenge to duel, I would accept as Mister Selwyn’s second, and I’d take my own measure of the man when we crossed wands. Nothing more than that.”</p><p><em>It tracks with the way the Selwyns have acted before, </em>Susan mused, <em>but maybe a little too well. </em></p><p>“I’m unconvinced of your innocence,” Cyrus folded his arms over his chest, “in this plot that resulted in the near-death of the eldest daughter of House Greengrass. Were it not for Lord Potter-Black, I have no doubt that I would have already challenged you to a duel to the death.”</p><p>“He is said to be a most formidable duellist,” Grünfeld seemed unbothered by this threat on his life, “a man who is <em>unbeatable, </em>even. You should know as well as I do, Lord Greengrass, the implications of such a reputation. I had hoped to test the truth behind these claims, but I swear to you, upon my honour, I had no idea that Mister Selwyn had grown so… deranged.”</p><p>“Children’s legends?” Cyrus scoffed, “tell me, Konrad, how <em>is </em>your father, Klaus, these days? In good health? Of sound mind?”</p><p>“My Lord Father,” Grünfeld replied hesitantly, “grows old. His wits are still about him, true, but he is no longer the powerful man that he had been.”</p><p>“And you thought,” Cyrus glared at his distant relative, “to enhance the standing of House Grünfeld, by crossing wands with the legendary Harry Potter. Perhaps you even deluded yourself into thinking you might have stood a chance to win this duel?”</p><p>“I have held titles at the <em>Duellistenliga </em>before,” Grünfeld argued, “no man is truly invincible, is he?”</p><p>“Then you’re familiar with Herr Leonhardt von Krafft,” Cyrus glowered, “the current holder of many of those titles. I have witnessed him duelling, and from everything I have seen, the Bavarian tradition has fallen sorely behind our practises here in Britain. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against half of the Aurors outside these doors, to say nothing of Potter himself.”</p><p>“As I have been so unfortunately waylaid,” Grünfeld gestured to his surroundings, “it appears that this theory shall remain untested.”</p><p>A long, tense moment passed, both inside the room and without.</p><p>“You are to cooperate fully with the Aurors,” Cyrus finally spoke, “and I invoke this command as the living forefather of House Greengrass, and its descendant, House Grünfeld alike. If the Aurors give me the slightest <em>hint </em>that you have not been fully forthcoming, then I shall write to your father, and demand your expulsion from our family, under consequence of Blood Feud if he proves to be as poor a judge of character as you are. Good night, Herr Grünfeld.”</p><p>Cyrus stood and turned without waiting for his relative to reply, storming out of the interrogation room nearly as intently as he’d first stormed into it.</p><p>“I believe that he should be more cooperative now,” Cyrus spoke as he exited, “but my words were no mere bluster; should he prove coy or deceitful, please do inform me, and I will ensure that his family faces consequences for his actions.”</p><p>He made his exit from the Auror’s station, just as dismissive of them as he’d been of Grünfeld.</p><p>“Well,” Robards hummed, “that’s something?”</p><p>“Pureblood fuckin’ bullshit,” Susan didn’t bother holding back, “but if it works out in our favour for once, then I’m bloody well thrilled to play along.”</p><p>“Proudfoot,” Robards commanded the new Head Auror, “let’s start the interrogation again, but this time, let’s try and follow that little comment about Harry Potter to its conclusion, yes?”</p><p>Grünfeld hadn’t exactly come out and admitted to it, but from his talk about “blood” and “honour”, Susan strongly suspected that he was part of a blood purist faction in his homeland. This, too, wasn’t exactly illegal, but she hoped it would provide enough of an excuse to revoke the man’s travel visa, and send him back to sulk in Germany for a while.</p><p><em>Hopefully he’s not even worse, </em>Susan feared, <em>if he’s a neo-Grindelwaldist, then it’s right fucking concerning that he got into Magical Britain, and into a party for VIPs before anyone fucking noticed him. </em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>
  <em>The next Wizengamot Session – Days after the party</em>
</p><p>Daphne sat with her hands neatly folded in her lap, resisting the equal urges to reach out to touch Harry’s shoulder, or otherwise to sit there fretting.</p><p>With the horrible events at Lord Carrow’s mansion, it had been necessary to take a public step forwards in their relationship; she was now attending the Wizengamot as the Lady-in-Courting to Lord Potter-Black, which would serve to explain her seat in his booth.</p><p>Privately, she realized that Harry was being protective of her, and while in other situations she might have found it a little bit too much, she could understand his fears and concerns. After all, both of them had come within inches of dying, mere days before.</p><p>It would also help, they’d decided, to have her directly witness the goings-on at the Wizengamot, rather than relying on reports from Harry or Susan after the fact.</p><p>The opening ceremony was, just as Harry had described, utterly boring. It was the opening remarks which followed, when Lord Garland Selwyn stood up, that Daphne found to be much more interesting.</p><p>“My Lords and Ladies, Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot,” Garland began, “I am sure you are all aware of the events which transpired within the walls of Carrow Manor. I wish to express my deepest regrets, and my personal apology to Lord Greengrass, Lord Carrow, Lord Potter-Black, and Miss Greengrass.”</p><p>He took a deep bow in turn to each of the named parties, though Daphne felt it was a bit awkward when he bowed twice in sequence to her and Harry, since it was the same direction and all.</p><p>“The man who carried out these actions,” Garland continued, “did so without the knowledge of House Selwyn, and certainly without my approval, tacit or otherwise. This man, formerly of House Selwyn, acted alone, in accord with some sort of mania of his own. We have recovered writings of his, since turned in to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which speak of a deranged mind; snippets of children’s rhymes and stories interspersed with the rantings of an unhinged, would-be killer.”</p><p>As Daphne watched him speak, she took note of the way that his skin was uncomfortably red, and realized that the very tip of his pinky finger was missing on his left hand. <em>The signs of severe frostbite, </em>she realized.</p><p>“This man, Geoffrey, has been cast from House Selwyn, finally and irrevocably,” Garland announced, “the blood which once flowed in his veins is ours no longer, and his bones shall not rest in a place of honour beside our kin; his final end shall be in a pauper’s grave, as the Ministry sees fit.”</p><p><em>A symbolic gesture more than anything, at this point, </em>Daphne thought, <em>but one that will carry some meaning among the traditionalists.</em></p><p>“I beg your forgiveness,” Garland bowed once more, “and it is my hope that this gesture, tardy though it may be, is sufficient to prove the depths of my regret.”</p><p>A scattering of confused applause went through the room as Garland Selwyn yielded the floor; most of the Wizengamot weren’t really sure what to make of these events, and his explanation<em> (a madman acting on his own impulses) </em>failed to be reassuring.</p><p>“With that note,” Daphne’s father took the podium as the Chief Warlock, “it is of utmost importance, my friends, to remember that while we might very well disagree with one another on political matters, we <strong>must not </strong>descend into the madness of our forebears, to begin attacking one another in the night. The Wizengamot is a place for a meeting of minds, not for the crossing of wands, and I will not hesitate to censure any found to be promoting such rhetoric within these walls.”</p><p><em>Of course, you never “promoted” it yourself, </em>Daphne thought, <em>merely gave it fertile ground to grow, and vaguely hinted at your support for “traditional Wizarding practises” such as blood purity…</em></p><p>She still, to that day, wasn’t sure what to make of her father. In some ways, it seemed as if the fictional Greengrass-Potter-Black alliance had somehow managed to spin itself into fact, but Daphne wasn’t so naïve as to expect her father had actually turned over a new leaf simply because her life had been threatened.</p><p>At the same time, she couldn’t quite reconcile his behaviour over the past couple of years with the way that it, too, was almost indicative of a “new leaf” being turned over. Her father had never been a warm or kind man, but he’d always been a <em>rational </em>sort of man in her youth, and courting the outdated nonsense that was “traditional Wizarding culture” seemed a poor fit for the man she once knew.</p><p>When it came time for her father to announce the first reading of his “Rights and Responsibilities for Heads of House” bill, Daphne was even more vexed than she’d been before.</p><p>The text of the bill had, indeed, been modified from its first appearance. Instead of “permitting” a Head of House to remain single until they were thirty, with an Heir produced by the age of forty, this edition proposed a much more aggressive timeline; marriage by twenty-five, and a living heir produced no later than age thirty.</p><p><em>Really puts the screws to Harry and Susan, </em>Daphne realized, <em>but there’s a number of heirs to traditional families who would become obligated to seek marriage immediately, if this passed. </em></p><p>The bill definitely leaned even further towards “traditional” views than its first edition, and yet, new additions seemed to turn the bill’s teeth towards the complex web of Pureblood marriages. It did so in ways which would make it difficult for families to consolidate with one another, at least without giving up one of their ancestral seats.</p><p><em>It’s one step forwards and two steps backwards, </em>Daphne realized, <em>for <strong>both </strong>sides, somehow. If this is allowed to pass, then it would all but cripple the progressive faction, yet within a couple of generations, there would barely be any seated Pureblood families left, assuming that Houses like Parkinson, Carrow, and Bulstrode would be absorbed into their husbands’ domain. </em></p><p>Daphne almost wondered if there was some way to make a play with Pansy, a way for Harry to scheme his way into absorbing her father’s seat <em>(which sits absent at most of these meetings, </em>Daphne noticed, <em>nobody’s seen Penrose for weeks…) </em>into his domain. It might complicate things in their future <em>(Harry already has to marry both of us for either marriage to count as valid, thanks to the Divorce Bill), </em>but those votes might prove critical at some point.</p><p><em>If only he had a way to suddenly obtain more seats, </em>Daphne mused, <em>it’s too bad Harry gave up his Rights of Conquest after the war; that could have let him claim another House or two to his name. </em></p><p>She put that fantasy aside for the time being.</p><p>Her father’s bill was already proving to be somewhat controversial, with members of the Wizengamot from the traditionalist, reformist, and even neutral factions standing to express their misgivings at various points in the reading, but by the time the session wound to an end, no changes had been made to the bill’s text.</p><p><em>I wonder if that’s part of his scheme, </em>Daphne thought, <em>there’s parts that are so unappealing to both factions, that there’s no way to get enough momentum behind a proposed change to get a vote passed on it, since that would skew the bill too far in one direction or another. </em></p><p>This wasn’t an insurmountable challenge, but it certainly raised the stakes, limited their options.</p><p><em>We have to find a way to stop this from passing, </em>she knew, <em>we can’t rely on a last-minute revision saving us from this one.</em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>“What is this about, Parkinson?” Adrienne Zabini asked, as she sat at a table in the back of <em>Serpentine</em>, “surely, you couldn’t be trying to intimidate me, or anything so foolish as that?”</p><p>Pansy had called Blaise’s mother to her shop to “discuss” Adrienne’s plans to have Pansy marry her son, which neither Pansy nor Blaise were willing to go through with.</p><p><em>Time to put an end to this shite, </em>Pansy thought, even as she made sure to present a harmless smile to the black widow.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re thinking, mum,” Blaise argued. Michel Delacour stood nearby; not exactly clinging to Blaise, but pretty close to it, “it’s not like anyone’s going to be fooled into thinking I’m straight all of a sudden.”</p><p>“The unwashed masses can believe whatever they want,” Adrienne snipped, “what matters is that House Parkinson,” she pointed at Pansy for emphasis, “requires a suitable marriage for its last Heiress, and it just so happens that House Zabini is able to provide such.”</p><p>“You’re trying to purchase more votes at the Wizengamot,” Blaise sighed, “why? It’s not like you’d be able to swing politics by yourself, even if you managed to scheme your way into a few more votes to your name.”</p><p>“You’re correct,” Adrienne hissed, “<em>I </em>wouldn’t, no. I rather expect that <em>you </em>will learn how to wield political power, however, as the future Lord to both Houses Parkinson and Zabini.”</p><p><em>What the fuck have you got planned, dad? </em>Pansy wondered. Her father was never exactly a political genius, but neither was he so timid as to just give Adrienne Zabini everything she wanted, with no gain to himself.</p><p><em>Then again, maybe she just literally bought you off, </em>Pansy thought. Her father had always loved Galleons more than anything else.</p><p>“You have other options,” Adrienne mused, “one of the Carrows, Bulstrode, et cetera. If you’re so concerned about little Pansy’s life, you’re certainly free to pursue these avenues instead, so long as you find a sole Heiress of a Noble House.”</p><p>“You are certain, then,” Michel interjected, “that this bill, the ‘rights and responsibilities’, it will pass?”</p><p>“Who is to say?” Adrienne dismissed him, “whether it does or not, this does not change that my son is leaving an opportunity to pass him by, and as I am still the Lady Zabini, it is within my rights to negotiate this sort of document.”</p><p>For emphasis, she produced the marriage contract between Blaise and Pansy, with Pansy’s father’s signature already on it.</p><p>“I could sign this right here,” Adrienne threatened, “in fact, I think I might just do so, unless one of you can explain why I’m wasting my time with this little meeting.”</p><p>“Oh,” Pansy laughed, “it won’t be one of <em>us </em>explaining what’s going to happen.”</p><p>She whistled a high, sharp note, her signal for the fourth member of this little conspiracy to make her appearance.</p><p>Pansy was expecting Fleur to walk through the doorway, and even <em>she </em>felt her breath catch in her throat when Fleur entered. The part-Veela was striking enough standing barefoot and mostly-nude <em>(a fact Pansy really didn’t try very hard to forget), </em>but with her current outfit? It was as if a <em>Goddess </em>walked into the room.</p><p>Fleur was wearing a long, white gown, sleeveless and deeply cut to show off her figure, while she perched on top of high platform stilettos <em>(also white, of course). </em>The woman veritably bristled with silver jewelry, and had an enormous white hat atop her head, the brim wide enough to just barely disguise her fiery eyes.</p><p>With the heels and the hat, it gave the impression that Fleur was much taller than she was, and Fleur was already starting off with a significant advantage in that category. Rather than spoiling the impression, the way that Fleur crouched to the side to pass under the door frame without dislodging her hat gave off an impression of otherworldly power.</p><p>Adrienne started to stand, her hands clenched into fists, only for Fleur to correct her.</p><p>“Ah, <em>non non non,</em>” Fleur spoke sweetly, “please, stay seated, Miss Zabini.”</p><p><em>Not “Lady”, </em>Pansy noted, <em>the first of many power-moves I’m about to witness, surely.</em></p><p>“Why is she here?” Adrienne hissed.</p><p>“Miss Parkinson recently informed me about the existence of a certain document,” Fleur calmly walked across the room, and perched at a seat across from Adrienne, “as it so happens, during my employment with Gringotts, I became rather familiar with certain aspects of Wizarding law. I am representing Pansy as her barrister, in fact.”</p><p>Fleur calmly reached out to take the contract from the table, and pretended for a moment to study its contents.</p><p>“It’s ironclad,” Adrienne smirked, “perfectly legal, as our courts would see it.”</p><p>“<em>Très bien!</em>” Fleur cooed, “as, I am quite certain, is this document.”</p><p>Fleur produced a sheet of parchment from somewhere <em>(she’s not even wearing a purse, </em>Pansy thought), and laid it on the table in front of Adriene.</p><p>“What…” Adrienne seemed to pale by a degree, “what is this?”</p><p>“Oh, I had thought you must be familiar with this sort of document,” Fleur’s accent wove in and out of her voice, the smoothness a clear indicator of her acting abilities, “this is a marriage contract, between your son, and myself.”</p><p>“Blaise…” Adrienne began.</p><p>“Indeed, Blaise is your son,” Fleur smiled coolly, “so I thought it appropriate to meet my future <em>belle-mère, </em>no?”</p><p>“What are you doing?” Adrienne asked.</p><p>“If you think to marry Pansy off to Blaise,” Fleur explained, “I can travel to <em>le ministère </em>and have our own contract validated before the ink has even dried on yours, to say nothing of passing through the Wizengamot.”</p><p>This was only part of their scheme, but Pansy was utterly thrilled to watch Fleur forcing Adrienne onto her back foot.</p><p>“I do believe that I might return to France, for a while, to celebrate my new marriage,” Fleur continued, “of course, my dear cousin Michel will accompany us; I know that he and Blaise cannot bear to go without each others’ company, is it not sweet? I would hate for my new husband to grow lonely, at one of the Delacour estates, while I am occupied with my own matters, that is.”</p><p>As far as threats went, it wasn’t the subtlest one: Fleur was completely and totally willing to go through with an obvious sham of a marriage, and even to provide a place for Blaise and Michel to live while she did, well, whatever the fuck Fleur felt like doing.</p><p>“You think people won’t know the truth?” Adrienne hissed in response.</p><p>“You think that I care what ze people think?” Fleur laughed, high and airy, “I am sad to say, I do not expect that the marriage of Blaise and I will be a long one, no, I rather anticipate that we might get divorced in a few years. I have already done it once, after all, it is not so painful an experience.”</p><p><em>"A few years" would take Blaise past the point where Adrienne could force him into marriage by stepping down from her role as Lady Zabini, </em>Pansy thought.</p><p>“This changes nothing,” Adrienne spoke, “polygamy was just made legal once more, I can still find a second wife for him to take, no matter if-”</p><p>Fleur snapped her fingers, and Adrienne’s jaw snapped shut; whether due to magic or from shock alone, Pansy didn’t know, and didn’t care.</p><p>“<em>Tsk, tsk, tsk,</em>” Fleur disapproved, “such marriages are <em>not </em>legal in France, if you were unaware. As his coupling with me would be Blaise’s primary marriage, we could easily argue that it takes precedence over any arranged in Magical Britain. Of course, whether or not we won such a campaign would be awfully irrelevant, would it not? I imagine that he would not be so eligible a bachelor, after months publicly professing his singular commitment to me.”</p><p>Adrienne’s eyes darkened, and as her expression sunk into a glare, Pansy wondered what she was thinking.</p><p>“Michel!” Fleur called out, “do you have ze potion?”</p><p>“<em>Oui!</em>” her cousin replied, and crossed the room to pass a stoppered vial into Fleur’s hands.</p><p>“Zis,” Fleur explained, “is something I believe you are rather familiar with, <em>non</em>? ‘Widow’s Wail’, eet is called. A poison most lethal, and most subtle, difficult to trace, <em>oui</em>?”</p><p><em>Must have been what Adrienne used to dispose of the late Lord Zabini, </em>Pansy guessed.</p><p>Fleur unstopped the vial, and Pansy couldn’t help but gasp when her friend proceeded to drink the entire contents, not even a drop spilled from her ruby lips.</p><p>There was a moment of shocked silence, before Fleur exhaled a burst of <em>flames </em>from her mouth, and the long flickers of fire eventually gave way to a single puff of black smoke.</p><p>“It is curious, but it seems, as a Veela,” Fleur explained, “I happen to be difficult to dispose of.”</p><p><em>Well, </em>Pansy realized with a hint of awe, <em>she's immune to poison. Handy, that.</em></p><p>“What do you want?” Adrienne finally choked out.</p><p>“<em>Moi</em>?” Fleur smirked, and there wasn’t even a hint of any sort of kindness in her expression, “it is not difficult to tell what I want. Whatever I take, that is something I desired. In this case? I desire for my friends to pursue their own lives, for my cousin not to become heart-broken.”</p><p>Fleur leaned across the table, and with her height, she managed to bring her face to within inches of Adrienne’s without even having to lift from her seat.</p><p>“I would advise you to consider what <em>you </em>want,” Fleur whispered, and it was somehow loud enough that Pansy could clearly make out her words, “I understand you are quite taken to traveling, <em>non</em>? It may very well be that you might decide to take a Magic Carpet for your next trip, an affectation of the rich, yes?”</p><p>Fleur smiled wide enough that her teeth looked almost like fangs.</p><p>“It would be such a shame, if your body was discovered in the waves, after you lost your handle on your transportation,” Fleur straightened up a little bit, and turned her hand to inspect her nails, “fitting, however; you thought that you could control something, when you actually had no idea of what matters you interfered with.”</p><p>Adrienne, with shaking hands, reached out to lift the marriage contract between Blaise and Pansy. After a moment, the sound of tearing paper rang through the room, and the older witch then discarded the two halves of the now-useless document.</p><p>“Ah, it appears you might have some sense after all,” Fleur reached out and clasped Adrienne’s face between her hands, before she leaned in to kiss each of the woman’s cheeks, “good afternoon, Miss Zabini. I believe our business here has concluded.”</p><p>Adrienne left the shop on shaky legs, and as soon as she departed, Blaise and Michel whooped in triumph.</p><p>“<em>C'est magnifique!” </em>Michel cried, “I knew that we could count upon you!”</p><p>“Oh, it is my pleasure to perform this favour,” Fleur giggled as she stood from her chair.</p><p>Pansy had to fight back a little gasp when Fleur fixed her ruby-red eyes upon her.  </p><p>“Besides,” she spoke, “I trust that my favour will be returned, non?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Some of the fallout from recent events - one door left open, one kind of nudged so that it's partway closed, and one slammed shut with <i>emphasis</i>.</p><p>Mostly just a bit of a connective chapter for the most part, but the political plotline is still moving along! Things will start happening a bit faster up until the actual vote, which will determine the trio's future, as well as Magical Britain's as a whole.</p><p>Let me know what you thought, or your ideas as to what might be going on with some of the side plots!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Trachea (Daphne/Pansy)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Susan gets a tip, and Pansy plays a role</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Susan</span>
</p><p>The second reading of the “Rights and Responsibilities” bill had been <em>much </em>more contentious than the first.</p><p>Since both traditionalist and reformist voters had plenty to object to within Cyrus’s latest scheme, it had very nearly threatened to place any possible revisions to the text of the bill in a permanent gridlock. They’d been “fortunate” enough to have eventually <em>(after more than enough bloody stupid arguments) </em>landed on a couple of unsatisfying compromises; the obligation for a sitting Lord or Lady to get married had been raised back to age thirty, but the corresponding obligation to produce heirs from said marriage had been set at age thirty-five.</p><p><em>Not the worst, I guess, </em>Susan grumbled in her thoughts, <em>but a little bit stricter than the first edition.</em></p><p>The traditionalists, meanwhile, had managed to sneak a line to “clarify” what would happen if a Lord married a seated Lady as his second wife, detailing that the git would then take ownership of her House in addition to his own.</p><p><em>They’re building a loophole where they can create their own “Lord Potter-Black”, </em>Susan knew, <em>except that fucker would be Lord Burke-Bulstrode, or something.</em></p><p>The trend of “one step forwards, two steps back” was, apparently, an unshakable one. With only one more reading remaining, Susan knew that their chances to turning this bill into something tolerable <em>(as they had done with the Divorce Bill) </em>were becoming vanishingly unlikely, so it was likely to come down to a desperate campaign to try and get the votes to prevent its passage.</p><p>When the reading had concluded, Susan had intended to go talk to Harry – <em>about a lot of things, really – </em>only for her plans to be interrupted by the appearance of a glowing emblem on her Wizengamot desk; a sign that the Chief Warlock <em>(fuckin’ Cyrus) </em>was summoning her to his chambers.</p><p><em>I wonder what the prick wants, </em>Susan thought as she made her way towards this unexpected meeting, <em>it’s not like he could expect to convince me to take his side, considering he’s basically trying to come up with a way to strip my political power away. </em></p><p>She entered the office, and found Cyrus Greengrass sitting behind a desk within. He looked off-kilter: not frazzled or unkempt or anything so <em>banal </em>as that, but somehow just a bit less put-together than the Lord usually seemed.</p><p>“Lady Bones,” he greeted her, “shut the door behind you, please.”</p><p>Susan thumbed at one of the rings on her left hand as she did so. Like most of the accessories she was wearing that day, the ring was charmed with defensive spells (in that particular case, a couple solid shields), and she had to remind herself that she <em>was </em>actually safe in Cyrus’s office.</p><p>
  <em>Probably. I doubt that he’d be bold enough to attack me in the actual Wizengamot itself, that’s a bit too obvious for his type. </em>
</p><p>“What I am about to tell you,” Cyrus spoke, but didn’t offer her a seat or anything, “did not come from me. If my name appears as a source, I will swear up and down that I had no knowledge of this, which will even be true, as I plan to have the awareness Obliviated from myself in short order.”</p><p>“Sounds awful paranoid of you,” Susan cut through the usual niceties; she might have thought that Cyrus was an utter cock-head, but he was at least clever enough to know that she and him were never going to be allies, “found out that one of your little friends is mixed up with something worse than you hoped, eh?”</p><p>“I cannot speak for any others,” Cyrus frowned, “but House Greengrass has a spotless reputation, we have never trafficked with Dark Magics. Not in the last two wars, and certainly not now.”</p><p>“Right, yeah, of course,” Susan just barely managed not to roll her eyes, “well, if you’ve got secrets to spill, then get spilling.”</p><p>“You know,” Cyrus glared at her, but there was something different than ‘offended’ in his expression, “you are practically the picture of your Aunt Amelia. It is almost reassuring, somehow, to see that you are carrying on the traditions of House Bones so diligently.”</p><p>“Heard that before,” Susan replied, “that’s not exactly a secret worth Obliviating out of your own mind, is it?”</p><p>“Archimedes Yaxley.” Cyrus said, as if the name was an explanation in and of itself.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“He is the second cousin, once removed, of Corban Yaxley,” Cyrus explained, “who is, of course, one of nine Death Eaters currently imprisoned in Azkaban. This also makes Archimedes a first cousin, twice removed, to the Lord Yaxley. Nowhere near their direct lines of inheritance, of course, but a member of a minor branch of that House, all the same. Good for the fortunes of House Yaxley, though, that he’s recently come into some money.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Susan committed the name to memory, “and?”</p><p>“It is a name you might wish to recall later,” Cyrus spoke, “when you are fulfilling your other duties, as the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”</p><p><em>Is this a tip? </em>Susan couldn’t figure out another reason for Cyrus bringing this person up.</p><p>“What’s he been doing?” Susan interrogated, “what are his crimes?”</p><p>“Why, Lady Bones, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” Cyrus smiled cloyingly at her, “I merely thought I might share a name that I heard from my own distant relative, before I sent him back to Germany to trouble his father instead.”</p><p>“Curious, isn’t that,” Susan smiled just as ‘sweetly’ in return, “that one of your relatives turns up as the guest of an assassin who tried to murder your daughter.”</p><p>“Trust me, Bones,” Cyrus’s smile disappeared, replaced by his more typical glare, “that is the last that Mister Grünfeld will bother us,” Susan thought that she saw Cyrus’s eye twitch a little bit in frustration, “good day, Lady Bones,” he dismissed her.</p><p>Susan left without returning any kind of goodbye, and decided that she’d make her way straight to her office at the DMLE.</p><p><em>Time to look into this Archimedes bloke, </em>she figured.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>“I still don’t see why I need a second tuxedo,” Harry grumbled, “mine is perfectly good, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Pansy rolled her eyes, “but you want to show off your wealth in a tasteful way, right? Showing up to event after event in the same tuxedo isn’t the best way to do that.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Harry muttered, “I can’t <em>wait </em>for all this shite to be over. I’ve worn tuxes more times in the last few weeks than I had my entire goddamn life up until now.”</p><p>“You’re playing the part well,” Pansy ran her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, half an affectionate gesture, and half a means of prompting him to stand up a bit straighter, “I know it’s been a pain in your arse, but we’re almost at the finish line, yeah?”</p><p>“We should go on vacation when all this is done,” Harry mused, “somewhere warm, where I can get away with just lounging around in a t-shirt, shorts, and some awful sandals.”</p><p>Pansy ran her hands down his back, as she continued to pin different pieces of fabric into place for the tuxedo she was making him.</p><p><em>That idea doesn’t sound half-bad, </em>she thought, <em>especially since we plan to go public with our relationship not too long after the final Wizengamot vote…</em></p><p>
  <em>Might be nice to escape the eyes of the media for a bit after dropping that particular bombshell.</em>
</p><p>It wasn’t as if Pansy were unused to being famous <em>(okay, “infamous” might be more accurate), </em>but she hadn’t exactly been a feature in damn near every <em>Daily Prophet, </em>unlike Harry. Even Daphne, as of late, had wound up in the news more often than Pansy would have expected, and she wasn’t sure if she dreaded or kind of looked forward to gaining the same status for herself.</p><p><em>It’d be good for business, </em>she thought, <em>probably utterly annoying for everything else in my life. </em></p><p>She supposed that becoming a celebrity would also come along with events to attend, interviews to give, and all that, which didn’t really appeal to Pansy. She mostly wanted to be famous in the sense that everyone knew who she was <em>(the most sharp-witted and well-dressed Witch in all of Magical Britain, naturally)</em>, not in the way that would result in reporters trying to talk to her.</p><p><em>I know enough people who are full-on famous already, </em>she mused, <em>maybe I can pawn the reporters off on them.</em></p><p>As if she had somehow heard Pansy thinking about her, one of those celebrities chose to make their appearance, as Pansy’s Floo flared to life and a familiar voice called out through her shop.</p><p>“Pansy!” Fleur Delacour announced, “are you in?”</p><p>“I’m in the back!” Pansy replied, “I’m working on a tux for Harry, but you can watch if you want.”</p><p>“She’s in your Floo Wards?” Harry muttered the question, “shows up unannounced a lot, hey?”</p><p>“She wasn’t in the shop wards,” Pansy shrugged as she answered quietly, “but that never stopped her before. Figure it’s easier to just give her access than have to reset the wards every time she knocks them down.”</p><p>“Ah, <em>bonjour, ‘Arry,” </em>Fleur’s accent magnified itself as she continued speaking, “eet is good to see you, it has been too long!”</p><p>“Hey, Fleur,” Harry replied, “yeah, sorry about that, I’ve been right busy lately.”</p><p>As Fleur entered the back room, Pansy was mostly glad that she was wearing flats this time, at least – <em>she still towers over me, but I don’t feel like a child next to her without her high heels – </em>but even without any additional height and in a casual outfit, Fleur Delacour still left an <em>impression</em>.</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Fleur responded to Harry, “to think of Harry Potter in the world of politics, it almost boggles the mind. You are almost done with that ghastly bill, <em>non</em>?”</p><p>“Hoping so,” Harry shrugged, and Pansy had to <em>tsk </em>and pinch him to remind him to stay still, “I can’t afford to let it pass, so… if things get dicey, I might wind up being politically active a bit longer than planned.”</p><p>“Well, let us hope they don’t,” Fleur smirked, “speaking of how much longer he has to suffer, Pansy, are you almost done with Harry? I have more designs I wish for you to craft, one in particular, I would appreciate if it is complete by this weekend.”</p><p>Pansy stepped back and gave Harry a once-over. His halfway-assembled tuxedo was pretty much pinned into place already, she’d just have to do some minor sewing charms <em>(and some of the annoying, fiddly bits to get the trim right), </em>and his outfit would indeed be finished.</p><p>“Yeah, Harry’s right about finished,” Pansy confirmed, “what do you think?”</p><p>“As always, quite dashing,” Fleur’s smirk got even bigger, “quite the heroic figure, aren’t you, <em>‘Arry</em>? I am almost disappointed I did not get to see you in formal dragonskin…”</p><p>“I’m sure I’ll have to break it out again soon,” Harry grumbled, “if there’s people wandering around throwing out Killing Curses again, well…”</p><p>“Ah, <em>non, non</em>,” Fleur dismissed that topic entirely, “I meant for the looks, more than the function.”</p><p>“Right, yeah.”</p><p>“So, Pansy,” Fleur turned to the topic which clearly interested her more, “<em>zis </em>is partway between a top and a brassiere, the way I am picturing it, and I would appreciate if you can add as many straps and embellishments as possible.”</p><p>Pansy wandered over to look at the design Fleur had brought; indeed, it vaguely resembled some hybrid between a corset with a loose, partially-deconstructed top attached to it. <em>Your designs are getting better and better, </em>Pansy thought, <em>I have to be careful, or you’re going to become a competitor rather than my number one client. </em></p><p>“Are you sure you want your shoulders covered like that?” Pansy inquired, “it’s a bit ‘eighties’, yeah?”</p><p>“Well, I was thinking,” Fleur pulled her top off in one easy motion, and started to undo her bra <em>(a front-latch, apparently) </em>as she continued to explain, “the shoulders could help hide some of the more structural parts, <em>oui</em>? I am afraid that I tend to burst out of anything that has not been sufficiently reinforced.”</p><p>Pansy heard a spluttering noise behind her, and idly remembered that Harry was still in the shop.</p><p>“Fleur!” he protested.</p><p>“What?” she replied, entirely nonchalant about her toplessness.</p><p>“You’re practically naked,” Harry had turned to face the other direction, and was obviously flushing red.</p><p><em>Right, I forgot that other people aren’t used to just hanging around a half-naked Veela, </em>Pansy chuckled at his embarrassment, <em>it’s not so bad, Harry, you get kind of used to it after a while.</em></p><p>“I do not see the problem,” Fleur dismissed Harry’s embarrassment in turn, “you have seen me in a bikini plenty of times, ‘Arry, zere is no difference between zat and a bra…”</p><p>“You aren’t wearing a bra,” Pansy pointed out with a smirk.</p><p>“Ah, well,” Fleur shrugged, which Pansy had to admit, did <em>fascinating </em>things to her tits, “many of ze beaches in France are topless, or even nude. I am hardly showing anything that you wouldn’t see in such a case.”</p><p>“Right, um,” Harry continued to face the other direction diligently, “I’m gonna head out for a while, Pans, I’ve got some… stuff… to do. Anyways! Good seeing you, Fleur – not like, <em>seeing </em>you, but I mean… never mind.”</p><p><em>Morgana, you’re more flustered than I’ve ever seen you, </em>Pansy found this absolutely hilarious.</p><p>“Bye!” Harry finally managed to conclude, and made to leave her shop.</p><p>“Have a good afternoon, ‘Arry,” Fleur called out, “you seem stressed! Perhaps I should take you to one of zese beaches, you need to relax!”</p><p>Harry made a noise that sounded a lot like “meep”, turned to cautiously look to Pansy for help, and then fled when she simply gave him a sinister smirk and a little wave.</p><p>“You know,” Pansy said, as she started to measure Fleur, “he <em>is </em>my boyfriend. Some women might be offended by you flirting with him like that, right in front of me.”</p><p>“Oh, but of course,” Fleur replied, “it is so difficult to remember, sometimes, but I would never interfere like that! Besides, that was hardly ‘flirting’, just a little light repartee, no?”</p><p><em>It’s always utterly baffling how your accent disappears and returns like that, </em>Pansy thought, <em>I wonder if you ramped up the accent around Harry because you aren’t as close with him as you are with me, or if it’s the other way around, and you trust him enough not to be careful about how you speak?</em></p><p>“Inviting him to a nude beach,” Pansy spoke flatly, “hmm.”</p><p>“Oh, I would invite you too, of course,” Fleur smirked, “I have a feeling you would not be so shy about a little casual nudity.”</p><p>“Who knows?” Pansy rejoined, “maybe I <em>will </em>take a vacation sometime.”</p><p>“Well, I would be happy to recommend the best beaches to you,” Fleur smiled and her eyes glinted with interest, “after all, you already owe me one favour, what is one more?”</p><p><em>I can’t tell if I’m terrified or thrilled by the fact I owe Fleur an unspecified “favour” in the future, </em>Pansy wondered, <em>and even worse, the fact I can’t tell is kind of exciting by itself. </em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>A Few Days Later</em>
</p><p>The party was, in Pansy’s opinion, utterly ghastly.</p><p>The second reading of Cyrus Greengrass’s bill had apparently been the talk of high society since it had happened earlier in the week, and while Pansy certainly understood why it would be important <em>(several parts of the bill would basically guarantee that she’d have to get married and starting having children <strong>far </strong>sooner than she planned on), </em>she had a monumentally hard time actually caring about political discussions.</p><p>Naturally, that was the only topic that the guests at Miss Whatever-ton’s party had to discuss. For the first time, Pansy actually wished that her father had used these tickets <em>(instead of mailing them to her with no explanation), </em>but she supposed that she was willing to make the sacrifice of being utterly bored for a night in order to display the right sort of front to the public.</p><p>She kind of hated to admit it to herself, but the little intrigue with Adrienne Zabini had been more her speed; rather than making suggestions of <em>possibly</em> negotiating lines of text in a byzantine document, the approach of negotiating “leave me alone and I won’t have you killed” had been much more tolerable for her.</p><p>It may have come off as an intimidation tactic to a less knowledgeable eye, but Pansy knew that Fleur had been telling the truth when she made those threats: she was completely willing and ready to kill the black widow herself, if it came down to it.</p><p>While Pansy had never taken a life herself <em>(thank fucking Merlin for that, considering I “fought” for the wrong side, </em>she thought), she figured that she’d probably be capable of doing so, if the situation called for it. The fact that “revenge” was an applicable situation might have been a realization that would have bothered some people, but Pansy already knew that she tended towards vindictiveness and decisive action.</p><p>She wondered if Daphne ever felt weirdly disconnected from the rest of their friends because of that. Harry had killed a few Death Eaters during the war <em>(basically backed into a corner, with only one option left, </em>in her opinion), Fleur had basically carved a swathe through the “snatchers” when they’d been active, and even Hermione Granger had a body count to her name.</p><p><em>Well, it can’t bother her too much, </em>Pansy groused to herself, <em>Susan Bones has killed people too, and Daphne’s practically attached to her stupid hip lately. </em></p><p>Indeed, even at this party, the pair of women were practically welded to one another.</p><p>Pansy <em>understood </em>the reasons behind Bones’s proximity: Daphne had already suffered through one failed assassination attempt, having a trained fighter guarding her all the time was a good thing; and as far as the public would see it, Daphne and Bones were basically two steps away from being sister-wives anyways.</p><p><em>Doesn’t mean I have to like it, </em>Pansy tuned out whatever the old Pureblood lady she was speaking to was going on about, instead taking the time to glare at the back of Bones’s head from across the room.</p><p>“Is something the matter, Heiress Parkinson?” the old woman – <em>Someone Someone Beaufort – </em>inquired.</p><p>“Oh, that is an issue of perspective, I suppose,” Pansy fit into her ‘spoiled Pureblood princess’ role, as their schemes called for, “it is so <em>nice </em>that House Bones can raise its status this far,” Pansy sniffed in feigned offense, “I would not imagine that any of the previous generations of Bones women might have dreamed of becoming Lady Black.”</p><p><em>Not that you’re going to be Lady Black in reality anyways, </em>Pansy realized, <em>but I still hate how that’s what we’ve had to hint at. </em></p><p>“If you will pardon me,” Pansy decided, “I believe that I could use a refreshment.”</p><p>She ignored whatever polite, proper goodbye Mrs. Beaufort gave to her, and wandered across the dining hall towards the punch bowl. When she sniffed the purplish fluid, it seemed to be distressingly non-alcoholic, so Pansy surreptitiously fixed that oversight by pouring a good portion of firewhisky from her flask into the cup she was holding.</p><p>“I hear I’ve got to watch out for you,” Bones spoke from behind her, and Pansy almost jumped in surprise.</p><p>“Oh, me?” she replied, “why, I’m completely harmless, Lady Bones, you should know that.”</p><p>“Are you?” Bones stepped a bit closer, and her next words were quiet enough to avoid being overheard, “why, I heard you managed to send the black fuckin’ widow scurrying back to her web. I’m almost, nearly, close to impressed by that.”</p><p>“Why, that’s pretty much the closest you’ve ever come to complimenting me,” Pansy drawled.</p><p>“Just stay sharp,” Bones muttered, “you don’t want to attract the wrong sorts of friends, considering your role in the war.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Pansy groaned, “look, I know I fucked up back then, okay? I picked the wrong side. But that’s the past, forgive and forget already.”</p><p>Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say; Bones reached out and grabbed Pansy’s upper arm, and her grip was nearly painfully tight.</p><p>“Watch yourself, Parkinson,” Bones hissed.</p><p>Pansy snatched her arm out of Bones’s grasp, and turned to stare her down.</p><p>“I <em>am </em>watching myself, Bones,” she snarled her response, “you need to get over whatever your problem is, because you can’t keep cornering me like this.”</p><p>“Oh?” Bones drew her lips back to bare her teeth, but the expression certainly wasn’t a smile, “maybe I should invite you to Bones Manor again, but next time, I’ll take you on a full tour. I’ll take you out back, show you the family mausoleum. Wanna tell my parents’ graves that I should forget them? Tell my brother’s bones that it’s all in the past?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Pansy growled, “you know that’s not what I meant.”</p><p>There wasn’t exactly a crowd around them, but enough people had started drawing close enough to the pair of women that their conversation was beginning to risk being overheard.</p><p><em>The fact that it’s a confrontation is already obvious enough, </em>Pansy realized, <em>which isn’t the worst thing for our scheme, I guess, but this is getting too close to being a real fight. </em></p><p>“Your father might not have been a Death Eater,” Bones spoke far too loudly, “but I’m pretty sure that if I went digging around in his closet, I’d find a silver mask all the same.”</p><p>The redhead turned on her heel and stomped away, and Pansy overheard a couple gasps and muttered expressions of shock.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, that could have gone better.</em>
</p><p>She schooled her expression into an impassive one, and immediately started planning how to escape the party at the first available opportunity.</p>
<hr/><p>Pansy wasn’t <em>drunk</em> by the time that Daphne returned home, but she certainly wasn’t sober.</p><p>She’d spent the rest of the evening drinking firewhisky by herself, hoping that the burn in her throat could chase away the lingering doubt that she’d fucked up, earlier in the night.</p><p>“Hey,” Daphne greeted her, “you okay?”</p><p>“Peachy,” Pansy grumped, “why do you ask?”</p><p>“Well, uh,” Daphne walked over to sit beside Pansy, and stroked her shoulder reassuringly, “you kind of got into it with Susan bit tonight, right?”</p><p>“It’s not like her and I are supposed to look like friends,” Pansy shrugged, “not like you and her, certainly.”</p><p>“True, we are relying on you two seeming like vaguely-opposed enemies in public,” Daphne agreed, “but from what I heard, might’ve gone a bit past ‘seeming’, didn’t it?”</p><p>“Not my fault,” Pansy muttered, “Bones is all kinds of on-edge, she went off the rails at me.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, she is,” Daphne admitted, “she’s concerned. I mean, I <em>was </em>just attacked and all.”</p><p>“It’s not like I’ve forgotten that,” Pansy protested, “it just doesn’t mean that I’m somehow a threat, just because I was an utter bitch at Hogwarts.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” Daphne leaned in to kiss the top of Pansy’s head, “just, maybe try not to antagonize her quite so much?”</p><p>“Did she ask you to say that?” Pansy huffed.</p><p>“No, actually,” Daphne frowned, “I’m asking you because <em>I </em>noticed that things got a bit dicey tonight.”</p><p>“Still not my fault,” Pansy muttered, “besides, Harry’s supposed to be seen going to Bones Manor tonight, right? I’m sure the two of them will get plenty drunk enough for her to forget about whatever crawled up her arse.”</p><p>
  <em>Then again, it was an entire fucking war, apparently…</em>
</p><p>“Babe,” Daphne didn’t whine, but she came close to it, “I’m not asking you to all of a sudden become her best friend or anything, I’m just saying it’ll be easier on me if both of you can try not to take so many shots at each other.”</p><p>Pansy let a few moments pass in silence while she contemplated that idea.</p><p><em>Fuck that, </em>she decided, <em>there’s no reason that I have to be particularly sensitive to Susan fucking Bones, it’s not my fault if she can’t handle what she dishes out. </em></p><p>Oddly enough, Pansy felt more frustrated after she reached that conclusion. It felt as if her body was overwhelmed by a vague drive to <em>move, </em>she was so restless and tense.</p><p>
  <em>Well, I can think of a way to burn off some energy…</em>
</p><p>She turned to Daphne and seized her in a fierce kiss without warning, mashing their lips together before her girlfriend really even realized it.</p><p>“Mmm!” Daphne hummed her approval regardless, as Pansy started to push her back onto the couch.</p><p>Pansy kissed Daphne even harder, with teeth even, and used one of her knees to pry the blonde’s long legs open while Pansy captured her bottom lip between her teeth.</p><p>“You’re keen tonight,” Daphne teased, when Pansy separated from her for a moment, “I didn’t know you liked my dress <em>that </em>much.”</p><p><em>I need this, </em>Pansy thought, but she didn’t give voice to that particular notion.</p><p>Instead, she moved her lips to the side of Daphne’s neck, and trailed one of her hands up the inside of Daphne’s thigh. Pansy bit lightly and suckled at the sensitive skin under her mouth, and when her fingers had reached up between Daphne’s legs <em>(brushing against her silky underwear), </em>Pansy didn’t hesitate. She pulled the garment aside, and pushed the very tips of two of her fingers inside Daphne’s wet heat.</p><p>“Fuck,” Daphne gasped, “that’s nice.”</p><p><em>Fuck yes it is, </em>Pansy thought, but she kept her mouth busy against Daphne’s neck.</p><p>With her free hand, Pansy awkwardly reached up her own skirt, and pulled her panties off, kicked them to the side without care. Her fingers were moving more quickly between Daphne’s legs, and her girlfriend was already wet enough that Pansy could slide her digits in up to the second knuckle.</p><p>She planted her own sex on Daphne’s thigh, straddling her girlfriend’s leg. Pansy started to grind her cunt against Daphne’s skin with urgency, finding her own pleasure as she shoved her fingers deeper inside Daphne, hooked them upwards to brush against the most sensitive parts of her pussy.</p><p>“Kiss me,” Daphne requested, and Pansy was on her again in a flash. She was a bit hesitant to release the blonde’s neck, but decided that continuing her passionate kind of aggression by shoving her tongue into Daphne’s mouth was just as nice.</p><p>Pansy felt Daphne spasm around her fingers – not an orgasm quite yet, but starting to get there – as she transitioned from thrusting her digits in and out to jerking her entire hand up and down, roughly rubbing at Daphne’s g-spot.</p><p>“Ahh!” Daphne pulled back from their kiss to gasp, and Pansy took advantage of that moment by latching onto her neck once again. She trailed sloppy kisses down the front of Daphne’s neck to the top of her cleavage, and then started to move back upwards, lavishing her tongue along Daphne’s collarbone.</p><p>Pansy started to buck her hips with a bit more force, sawing her clit back and forth against the soft skin of Daphne’s strong thigh.</p><p>“Want me to touch you?” Daphne asked.</p><p>“I’m fucking you right now,” Pansy growled, and bit the spot where Daphne’s shoulder met her neck for emphasis.</p><p>Spurred on by her own statement, Pansy pulled her fingers back, then added a third digit when she pushed back into Daphne’s cunt. She started to time the motions of her hand with the movements of her hips, doing her level best to make good on the promise of fucking her girlfriend.</p><p><em>Not “making love” or even “having sex”, </em>Pansy’s thoughts spun a bit, <em>“fucking” is what I need right now. </em></p><p>“<em>Eep</em>,” Daphne gasped, “a bit gentler with the teeth?”</p><p>“’kay,” Pansy spoke, and toned down how hard she was biting by a little bit, but made sure that she was still nibbling and sucking hard enough to leave marks on her girlfriend’s pale skin.</p><p><em>You’re mine, </em>her thoughts spoke.</p><p>Pansy moved her hips desperately, as she hooked her fingers deep inside of Daphne; she started to feel the hints of her own orgasm starting to build, and judging by how wet Daphne was <em>(and the way she’s moaning and muttering), </em>the blonde was well on her way already.</p><p>“Cum for me,” Pansy ordered, “right now. Cum.”</p><p>She punctuated her demand by curling her fingers and pressing up into Daphne’s cunt <em>hard</em>, and her girlfriend obliged, immediately clenching tight around Pansy’s penetrating digits. Pansy slapped her free hand over Daphne’s mouth, stifling her moans by impulse.</p><p>“Good girl,” Pansy drawled, “but it looks like you need to be quieter…”</p><p>She shuffled up Daphne’s body, hiking her skirt up over her hips as she moved. Without giving her girlfriend time to recover from her own orgasm, Pansy reached down to grip Daphne by the hair, then swung a leg over her shoulder to straddle over her face.</p><p>Pansy thrust her hips almost as aggressively against Daphne’s face as she had been riding her leg, and her girlfriend made a couple muffled noises underneath her, but didn’t attempt to escape this position <em>(or use a safe-gesture or anything…), </em>so Pansy felt secure in continuing this aggressive brand of passion.</p><p><em>I’m close, </em>she realized, and planted even more of her weight down onto Daphne’s lips, driving her wet cunt against Daphne’s tongue with as much force as she could muster.</p><p>Pansy’s orgasm hit her like a lightning bolt; her entire body went rigid, her mind blanked, and her vision even flashed for the briefest of moments. As soon as it passed through her, she collapsed, rolling her legs out of the way so that she could awkwardly slump into a position clinging to Daphne’s side.</p><p>“Wow,” Daphne giggled, “you <em>must </em>have been fired up.”</p><p>“Maybe a little bit,” Pansy agreed, as she observed the red marks scattered over Daphne’s neck.</p><p><em>I left those, </em>she thought fuzzily, <em>good. </em></p><p>The little bite marks on Daphne’s skin were practically physical proof of the connection they shared, something that neither of them could forget any time soon.</p><p>As a rule, Pansy Parkinson did not feel insecure, or uncertain about herself, but she was feeling <em>something </em>which seemed to land uncomfortably close to those sorts of emotions.</p><p><em>I must just be riled up still, </em>she wondered, <em>maybe I’ll need to burn off some more energy whenever Harry gets home. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Almost at the halfway point! The political plotline keeps on chugging away, but as it's building towards its inevitable climax, some of the other lingering issues which the trio have put on the backburner are starting to heat up a bit!</p><p>Speaking of "backburners", oh boy, is that ever a completely unsuitable place to leave Pansy for too long. Hopefully she can be patient and avoid doing anything too impulsive, but the closer the trio gets to being able to go public, the more eager she becomes...</p><p>I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, and any ideas you might have about upcoming developments!</p><p>As always, thanks for reading - we're also pretty much around the half-way point of Triplicity as a series, which is a hell of a thing to think about!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Ligament</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As Cyrus's bill looms on the horizon, Daphne and Harry go over what they know, and what they've recently learned</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Night of Lady Orpington’s Party</strong>
</p><p>Something was different about Sue that night. Harry couldn’t tell exactly what was on her mind, but it was pretty obvious she was out-of-sorts in some way or another. He’d noticed that she and Pansy got into another spat, but as much as that frustrated him, he knew that they had some kind of private rivalry, as well as the public “dispute” that they had to portray.</p><p><em>It doesn’t usually keep bugging her when they get into some stupid argument, </em>he wondered, <em>what’s different this time?</em></p><p>“I swear,” Sue ranted, “things were fuckin’ simpler back in the war, when at least we knew who our fucking enemies were. This shite is impossible to figure out, fuck!”</p><p><em>She’s usually a bit more eloquent, even with her cursing, </em>Harry mused.</p><p>“I mean, you’re not wrong that this is right fucking annoying,” he agreed, “but what’s different now? There’s always been all the political bullshit going on. Even Dumbledore had to deal with it.”</p><p>“What’s different now?” she snorted, “Harry, you almost fuckin’ died not long ago.”</p><p>“I’ve almost died loads of times,” Harry joked, “if anything, that’s a return to the status quo.”</p><p>“I don’t want another war to happen,” Sue complained, “it’s not like that, it’s just… fuck, I can’t shake the feeling we’re wasting our time with all this shite.”</p><p>“Well, if we wanna keep things above board,” Harry frowned, “then, I hate to say it, but we kind of have to do the political thing. What’s bugging you about that? You’ve been at it for longer than I have!”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sue grumbled, “and I might’ve just been wasting my time with it. It’s like we talked about: what if the whole dog-and-pony show with Cyrus is just a distraction from the real shite?”</p><p>Harry contemplated that idea, and found that he didn’t particularly care for the paths his thoughts followed in response.</p><p>“I need another fuckin’ drink,” Sue got up from her seat, and wandered off into her kitchen, leaving Harry to sit there pondering.</p><p><em>Publicly, at least, Geoffrey Selwyn acted on his own, and from how pissed Cyrus seemed to be, it might even be the truth, </em>he thought, <em>but there was definitely <strong>something </strong>screwy going on the night of Carrow’s party… couldn’t be a coincidence that so many Heads of traditionalist Houses were absent the night an attempted assassin shows up. </em></p><p>Sue came back with an unopened bottle of firewhisky, and tore the cork from it with her teeth as she re-entered the room.</p><p>“Shove over,” Sue said, “we’re splitting this.”</p><p>“Alright,” Harry moved closer to one end of her couch to give her room, but it seemed to be a performative gesture more than anything else, considering how Sue very nearly plopped down on his lap when she sat down.</p><p>She took a deep swig from the bottle, then exhaled a trickle of smoke with a satisfied <em>“ahh” and</em> passed it to him. Harry found that the burn in his throat indeed helped – a little bit, at least – to chase some of his more paranoid thoughts away for a moment.</p><p>“Maybe things’ll be back to normal when we finish with the Rights and Responsibilities bill,” Harry pondered, “we can go back to our usual lives, and you won’t be getting dragged in to all this stupid shite any more.”</p><p>“Nah,” Sue shrugged, “I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me at this point, even if our whole ‘relationship’ comes to a tragic end,” she made air quotes to emphasize their public act, “I’ve gotten kind of used to hanging out with you all the time, mate.”</p><p>Harry took another drink, and returned the bottle to her, the closest he could come to a “cheers” with a single beverage.</p><p>“Y’know,” he started off, “you’re gonna have to hash things out with Pansy at some point…”</p><p>“Fuck, I know,” Sue muttered, “I was a bit of a bitch to her tonight, I’m gonna have to – ugh – apologize for that at some point. It’s not even about her, really, it’s just… so fucking <em>frustrating </em>that I don’t know who else to take it out on.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Like, put me in a room with some bloody Pureblood git,” Sue ranted, “and I’ll tear him apart. But noooo, I have to be all ‘political’ and ‘focused on the long-term’, and all that we’re planning… I just need to get in a good scrap, then my head’ll be on straight.”</p><p>“So, you’re poking Pansy until, what, she gives you the scrap you’re looking for?” Harry mused, then took another swig of firewhisky, “she might be game, honestly. The two of you are more similar than you realize.”</p><p>“Sod off,” Sue bumped her shoulder into Harry’s, “no we aren’t.”</p><p>“You both say whatever you’re thinking,” Harry argued, “that’s something I respect about each of you, really.”</p><p>“Well, maybe I just think better than she does,” Sue shrugged, “fuck it, I’ll say ‘sorry’ and all, but that’s it. Even if I like spending time with you and Daph lately, it’s not like I’m gonna change my mind about Parkinson.”</p><p>Harry hummed noncommittally into the bottle of firewhisky before he passed it back to Sue. She took a substantial swig in turn, as the evening started to blur into the territory of “late night”.</p><p>“Y’thought about what you’ll do if, uh, we don’t win?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Eh?”</p><p>“With the political shite,” Harry clarified, “if we don’t manage to scrounge up the votes, where’ll that leave you?”</p><p>“Well, I’ll be right fucked,” Sue answered, “as it is now – and I’m sure it’ll get worse at the last reading, coming up – I’ve got a few years left to find some bloke to marry, pretty good odds that I’ll lose my seat as Lady Bones in doing so, but even if I manage to hold onto it, I’ll have to start pumping out kids not long after that.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry muttered, “I’m not hopeful that the ‘married by thirty’ part is going to stay there, so if we can’t stop this, I’m guessing twenty-five, twenty-seven at latest. A bit earlier than I was thinking, but I’m lucky enough that I don’t have to stumble around looking for someone to fit, I guess.”</p><p>“You figure they’re both lifetime-type relationships?” Sue chuckled, “even Parkinson? Surprised she hasn’t got bored of you yet, honestly.”</p><p>“Ouch,” Harry mimed being injured, “but, yeah… I kinda reckon they’re both in it for the long haul with me.”</p><p>“Must be nice,” Sue grumbled, “to have things fall into place like that.”</p><p>“You’ll figure it out too,” Harry reassured her, and reached out to rub her shoulder in a friendly gesture, “I know that, uh, everything is kind of fucked up right now, but, yeah. You’ll find someone, one day.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Sue hummed, but didn’t reply.</p><p>They passed the next few moments in an easy silence, as Sue leaned into Harry’s hand at her shoulder.</p><p>“Maybe I’ll just give up on politics,” Sue finally stated, “I’ve already got a foothold at the DMLE, maybe I’ll just focus on arresting Dark Wizards, instead of trying to make our stupid fucking culture slightly less archaic.”</p><p>“Giving up isn’t your style,” Harry teased, and nudged her shoulder with the palm of his hand. She bumped back into him, and the pair spilled into a ‘less awkward than it should have been’ position where they wound up half-laying beside each other, “don’t lose hope, hey? I know that it looks bad right now, and we’re on our back feet by pretty much every measure, but… well, I think we can pull it off.”</p><p>“Which part are we pulling off?” Sue laughed.</p><p>“The political shite, at least,” Harry promised, “don’t worry about finding some random bloke to marry, Sue. I’ll take care of it, somehow, but I won’t let that happen to you.”</p><p>“Mhmm,” she didn’t sound entirely convinced, “you going to be my hero, yeah? Swooping in to save me from an arranged marriage? Awful romantic, that.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Harry laughed at her teasing, “you know what I mean.”</p><p>“What about everything else?”</p><p>“How d’you mean?”</p><p>“Like,” Sue shuffled around to face him, which brought them into a position awfully close to ‘cuddling’ <em>(not like Sue would do anything inappropriate, anyways, </em>Harry thought), “the other shite going on. Assassins, conspiracies, Dark Magic. That shite.”</p><p>“Fuck it,” Harry waved it off, “like I said, nothing new, sad to say. I’ll handle that when it needs handling, but there’s <em>always </em>going to be some tosser or another who gets delusions of Dark Lordery in their heads. Voldemort wasn’t the last, and that’s just how it is, I think.”</p><p>A few moments passed where neither spoke, each taking their time to ponder those words.</p><p>“If there <em>is</em> a conspiracy of Dark Wizards out there,” Harry joked, “I expect you and the Aurors will smoke them out and handle it. If you need help, I’m here, but I’m honestly not too bothered.”</p><p>When Harry glanced at Sue, he saw that there were tears in her eyes for some reason.</p><p>“Sue?”</p><p>“I haven’t-“ Sue choked on the word, “there’s something I need to tell you, Harry.”</p><p>“What’s up?” he tried to figure out what was wrong, what he’d said that had hurt her feelings.</p><p>“I haven’t been honest with you,” she finished the sentence she’d begun earlier, and she spoke more softly than he'd ever heard from her before. Harry wondered what it was that she was struggling to tell him, which seemed to be so difficult for her to get out.</p><p>"No? That's okay, you probably had your reasons..." Harry tried to give her a graceful exit to avoid saying whatever words were causing her this struggle.</p><p>"Not good ones," Sue muttered.</p><p>"It's okay, Sue," Harry shifted a bit on the couch, so that they were facing each other directly, "you can tell me, or not. It's up to you."</p><p>“It’s not really an ‘if’," what she eventually said wasn't what Harry had been sort of half-expecting, "there’s a couple groups moving around out there, and Selwyn was probably sent by one of them.”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, there’s never a break, is there?</em>
</p><p>“Yeah?” Harry tried his best to dismiss the instincts that he felt rising, “that so?”</p><p>“Neo-Grindelwaldists are active again in in Europe,” Sue sighed heavily, “and there’s some sort of cult made up of once-Death Eaters running around here. There’s some things I can’t tell you – like, sworn not to say them and all – but I can’t hide this from you any more. Harry, there’s people after you. Not just theoretically, but, fuck it, at least two groups are actively targeting you.”</p><p>“There always have been,” Harry repeated, “seriously, Sue, this… well, the specifics are news to me, I guess, but the general principle is nothing new in my life.”</p><p><em>Things <strong>did </strong>seem a little too easy lately, can’t have only one set of trials and tribulations, I guess… </em>he thought sarcastically.</p><p>“I’m worried,” Sue continued, “there’s… we can’t tell if they’re trying to kill you, or if they think you’re going to be their next lord, or what madness they’re fucking fixated on. You and Daph have already been targets, clearly, you need to keep your head up, Harry.”</p><p>“I’ll keep it in mind,” Harry shrugged, “honestly, Sue, I understand, I’m not trying to downplay your concern or anything, but… this is kind of just my life?”</p><p>“I can’t imagine,” Sue let out a long, shaky breath, “and I fought a war with you.”</p><p>“I’ve been doing this shite since I was eleven,” Harry sighed along with her, “even if it’s a new twist that they might be trying to <em>recruit </em>me instead, well, that just reminds me of all the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ shite.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, fucking hell, I might have to look into that again.</em>
</p><p>“Anyways,” he continued, “I appreciate the heads up, Sue, I really do. But I’m not going to go out Dark Wizard hunting. At least, not until you’ve got something a bit more solid to me to go on.”</p><p>“You’re not?” she seemed surprised by his reaction.</p><p>“I’ve got way too much on my plate already,” Harry chuckled wryly, “and anyways, it always seems easier to just let them come to me, yeah?”</p><p>“You would,” Sue finally smiled again, “use yourself as both the bait and the trap, hey?”</p><p>“Something a bit like that,” Harry agreed, “but I’ve got loads of people looking out for me. You, for one.”</p><p>“I’m not that great,” Sue grumbled, “didn’t prove much help at all at Carrow’s.”</p><p>“Who cares,” Harry rubbed his hand against her back, “that worked out, anyways, so don’t beat yourself up over it. I can sleep easier knowing that Susan fucking Bones is watching my back, yeah?”</p><p>“Pfft,” Sue chuckled, “yeah, I bet.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Next Week – The Third Bill Reading</strong>
</p><p>As had become a tradition from the first moment they’d decided to use the ploy, Daphne sat behind Harry at his stand in the Wizengamot. Today’s reading was due to be a momentous one: it was their final opportunity to try and put forth any changes to the text which might make its <em>(hypothetical, hopefully)</em> passage more tolerable.</p><p>The ceremony and ritual of the session opening was, by contrast, exactly as rote and unremarkable as the first session that she’d attended. Daphne supposed that this time, at least, there hadn’t been a recent assassination attempt to have prompted people into action, so in a way, perhaps the whole “welcome, Lords and Ladies, Wizards and Witches” speech was a sign of improvement.</p><p>When it came time for the text of the bill to be read one last time, Daphne sat up straighter in her seat, and produced a notebook from her bag. Though she trusted her memory to recall the specifics well enough, she knew that word-for-word precision could become essential in her near future, to identify any loopholes or gaps that her father and his allies might have left open.</p><p><em>“Those who are the active</em> <em>Lord or Lady of a House which possesses an ancestral seat at the Wizengamot,</em>” the reading began, <em>“shall be subject to additional restrictions and requirements in the subject of matrimonial pursuits, which must be adhered to in order to retain their ancestral privileges.”</em></p><p>The opening text had changed from its first inception (when it had been specific to “Noble” Houses), but this modification was not worth fighting against; while it technically made the bill more restrictive (and thus represented a win for the traditionalist faction), many of the neutral or even reformist Houses were in favour of language which did not specify Noble or Most Noble Houses as distinct from their peers.</p><p>
  <em>“Lords and Ladies shall be subject to the Duty of Lineage: they must undertake reasonable efforts to ensure the continuation of their line(s), including (but not limited to) entering a marriage in order to ensure the production of a suitable heir.”</em>
</p><p>This, too, wasn’t really worth fighting over. The basic premise was not overly onerous, and there were enough neutral voters who might have feared that Harry would turn himself into the magical equivalent of a single-term leader, that trying to have this clause removed from the bill outright would surely be voted down.</p><p>
  <em>“Should any Lord or Lady be the last living member of their House, they are required to marry no later than the age of thirty (30) years, and to produce a suitable heir by the age of thirty-five (35) years. If these conditions are not met, the Lord or Lady shall be considered to be delinquent in their duty, and shall be stripped of their vote(s) in the Wizengamot, unless reasonable evidence that the production of an heir is being pursued can be provided.”</em>
</p><p>Now <em>this </em>was something that was going to start a fight.</p><p>The age requirements weren’t as bad as the last edition of the bill (which tried to enforce marriage by age twenty-five), but there were clear loopholes in terms of how this requirement could be enforced. Firstly, the bill made no provision for those who might wish to name an heir by processes such as adoption (whether legally or through Blood Adoption rituals), and secondly - and perhaps more importantly – it made no distinction as to what made an heir “suitable”.</p><p>If allowed to pass without any modification, then this phrasing opened the door to traditionalist infighting where they might attempt to declare each others’ heirs “unsuitable”, and in turn, a chaotic and messy political environment where various old Houses might decide that a literal war might be more palatable.</p><p>“Lords and Ladies!” Susan’s voice boomed out from her own seat, “I wish to propose changes to this clause!”</p><p>“Lady Bones has the floor,” Daphne’s father spoke from down on the main floor, though his voice was no less ‘booming’ <em>(likely enhanced with a </em>Sonorous <em>charm, </em>Daphne thought) despite the distance, “please proceed.”</p><p>“There are no provisions for the naming of an heir via adoption,” Susan spoke, as she’d been chosen to air this particular grievance their faction held, “and no definition of what might make an heir ‘suitable’, and thus, what might make one ‘unsuitable’. Unless these oversights can be corrected, then I propose that this provision is struck from the bill!”</p><p><em>Now, it begins, </em>Daphne thought, <em>we’re going to spend the next several hours going back and forth over the minutiae of this text, just to inevitably wind up with a result that we can’t allow to pass anyways.</em></p><p>In truth, their little conspiracy had already abandoned any hope that they might manage to make this bill into a somewhat-decent piece of legislation, as they’d managed with its two predecessors. Their public protest against specific clauses was not meant to reform the bill, but rather to inspire other voters to consider that it might be flawed, and hopefully, to vote against it when the debate over its passage came about.</p><p>“Lord Bulstrode has the floor,” Cyrus Greengrass announced.</p><p>“My Lords, my Ladies,” the dour-faced man announced himself, “rather than debating what might make an heir ‘suitable’ or not – which I might imagine could vary wildly between different family traditions – why not simply strike that specific term from this clause? Simply refer to an “heir”, make no mention of their specific qualities, and be done with it.”</p><p>“Do you file a motion to enact this change?” Cyrus seemed almost bored, to Daphne’s eyes.</p><p>“Er, yes! I do!” Merrick Bulstrode was not exactly a man who was well-versed in political language, “I move that the term ‘suitable heir’ be amended to simply read ‘heir’.”</p><p>“Very well,” Cyrus announced the vote on this motion, the first of many that were sure to come, “all in favour?”</p><p>Sure enough, this modification passed through the Wizengamot easily; many families were undoubtedly nervous about how the term “unsuitable” might wind up wielded against them.</p><p>“My Lords and Ladies!” it was Humphrey Burke who spoke this time, “thirty-five is an awfully late age to wait and see if an heir can be produced! It is known that a mother of such an advanced age might have difficulty conceiving: in order to protect the Witches of our society, I move that the age of mandated marriage for seated Lords and Ladies be lowered to twenty-seven, and the age of parenthood to thirty-three.”</p><p>Daphne grit her teeth.</p><p>It was as they’d expected, any “loss” that the traditionalists suffered was going to be met with a corresponding proposal to make the bill just that little bit more restrictive. While twenty-seven didn’t honestly strike Daphne as an <em>unreasonable </em>age to get married, the fact that it was a mandatory imposition rankled her much worse than the idea itself did.</p><p>Sure enough, after another round of votes <em>(where the traditionalist faction all voted “aye” in lock-step with one another), </em>this motion also passed.</p><p>So it went. Back and forth, tit-for-tat, until, by the end of the Wizengamot session, the body had managed to collectively produce a piece of legislation which would be <em>hideously </em>restrictive to Wizarding society, but particularly confining towards any women who dared to sit in positions of power.</p><p><em>Married by twenty-seven, at least two heirs produced by age forty, the first no later than age thirty-three, </em>Daphne recalled some of the content of the bill, <em>but that barely even matters, considering a sitting Lady would have to surrender her House to her husband’s Lordship, barring exceptional circumstances where he surrendered his own line <strong>and </strong>the Wizengamot approved of such. </em></p><p>They’d even managed to sneak in new provisions which specifically targeted Harry Potter-Black: if this bill passed, he would be obligated to produce at least three heirs <em>per </em>House he sat, in order to “prevent any conflicts within a Lord of multiple Houses’ lines”.</p><p><em>All that, </em>Daphne thought, frustratedly, <em>and the only real wins that we managed to achieve were to shut down the “suitable heir” loophole, and to prevent the addition of a new clause requiring a Lord of Multiple Houses to seek <strong>multiple </strong>marriages per House… </em></p><p>It was as if they were trying to frustrate Harry into abandoning his powers simply by continually raising the “importance of maintaining the line of Black”, and in turn, trying to somehow pimp him out by proxy to various Pureblood daughters.</p><p>The proposal could have been viewed as an insult to Houses Bones and Greengrass, as well, but Daphne was fairly sure that this was only a secondary benefit, compared to how the traditionalists could have forced Harry to marry women of <em>their </em>choosing should that motion have passed.</p><p><em>It was a near enough thing, </em>Daphne recalled, <em>we only defeated that motion by a few scant votes.</em></p><p>If this was any indication of the likely distribution of votes on the bill itself, then they were completely and utterly out of luck.</p><p><em>The Wizengamot perpetuates its own status, </em>Daphne thought, <em>Noble and Ancient Houses are simply more powerful than “lesser” or “newer” seats, which means that it’s impossible to enact any real reform unless it serves their ends. </em></p><p>She almost understood why the traditionalists were all abuzz over trying to pass this draconian sort of legislation: Harry Potter-Black was an aberration which they’d likely never dealt with before, a Lord who wielded more individual power than any other seated member, while simultaneously championing more progressive causes than even the more “modern” ancestral seats.</p><p>Daphne couldn’t help but feel like they were on the verge of a huge mistake, as a people. While this bill would certainly serve to clip the wings of specific figures like Harry or Susan, it also opened the doors for a similar multiple-Lordships figure in the future to become a functional dictator of Magical Britain through the circumstances of his <em>(and they’ve guaranteed it would be a “he” in power…) </em>birth alone.  </p><p>“Well,” Daphne finally spoke, tearing herself out of her own thoughts, as she and Harry arrived home, “that was a complete and utter disaster.”</p><p>“You think?” Harry laughed sardonically, “here I thought that we were doing so well…”</p><p>“We cannot allow this bill to pass,” Daphne sighed, “it’s even worse than it was before. Did we mess up, trying to delay its passage like this?”</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Harry grumbled, “the traditionalist types, they’re never really satisfied, yeah? Even if we handed them a win right at the start of all this, they’d just keep pushing and pushing until they eventually produced something even <em>worse </em>than this bill.”</p><p>“You figure so?”</p><p>“I know so,” Harry muttered, “want a drink?”</p><p>“Merlin, yes,” Daphne sighed, “I think it’s a firewhisky kind of day.”</p><p>Harry wandered to his bar and fetched them two tumblers of the beverage in question.</p><p>“At any rate,” he continued, “it’s kind of all academic, yeah?”</p><p>“How do you figure?”</p><p>“Well, we’re <em>close </em>to the votes we need to prevent this from passing,” Harry continued, “so we really work hard the next two weeks, try and flip a couple key voters, and then we make the traditionalists start over from page one the next time they’re getting stroppy.”</p><p>“How can you be sure?” Daphne wondered, “we just barely managed to prevent that ‘multiple wives per individual house’ clause from getting added in. Could you imagine?”</p><p>“Ugh,” Harry groaned, “they’d probably try and fix me up with – no offense – Millicent Bulstrode, or someone like that.”</p><p>“Which, I suspect,” Daphne continued, “is why Lord Bulstrode voted ‘aye’ to that amendment.”</p><p>“I thought he was on our side,” Harry grumbled.</p><p>“As much as he can be, I believe he is,” Daphne sighed, “but as a father, you have to imagine he’d jump at the chance to <em>obligate </em>his wayward daughter into marrying the hero of the Wizarding world.”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess,” Harry took a swig from his cup, “but yeah, no chance of that happening.”</p><p>“I got distracted,” Daphne recalled, “how is it, exactly, that you’re convinced that we <em>aren’t </em>on the precipice of a huge disaster?”</p><p>“Oh, I’ve got a plan,” Harry grinned, “I’m hoping it doesn’t come down to me putting it in motion, but if I have to… I can stop the bill from passing.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Secret,” Harry grinned even wider, “like I said, I’m hoping it doesn’t come to it.”</p><p>“Are you going to blow up the Wizengamot…” Daphne honestly wouldn’t have been surprised. The news that there was a Grindelwald revival movement targeting Harry had unsettled her, and ever since Harry had learned that from Susan, he’d seemed to be getting awfully martial-minded again.</p><p>“Thought about it, but no,” Harry grunted, “you’ll see, maybe. Hoping you don’t. Anyways, as part of that, let’s figure out who we might be able to flip, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne agreed, “okay, here’s the vote tallies for the first amendment…”</p><p>Harry groaned as she started to read out different Houses who voted outside of their expected lines of allegiance.</p><p>"Maybe we should get Hermione on this part," Harry made an excuse, "she's better at remembering long lists like this than I am."</p><p>"Sorry, Harry," Daphne smiled, "you can't escape the boring, procedural parts after all."</p><p>Daphne didn’t blame his frustration; doing what amounted to homework was hardly how she would have preferred to spend her evening.</p><p>"Why don't we blow this off for tonight," Harry offered, "go do something fun?"</p><p>"Like what?" Daphne asked, "if we're seen in public together, it would have to be something that's permitted under a proper Pureblood courtship. Not exactly the most 'fun', really."</p><p>"No," Harry agreed, "I dunno. I just can't shake the feeling that I need to blow off some steam."</p><p>"Well, if an opportunity to do so shows up all of a sudden," Daphne reassured him, "you have my full support. Until then..." she gestured at the notes she had in front of her.</p><p>Harry sighed again, but nonetheless, he listened intently as she went through the roll call.</p><p><em>I guess we have to put off having real lives for a couple weeks longer, </em>Daphne decided, <em>but when things are back to normal, when we can actually go public for real? Harry, I’m going to take you and Pansy on the best bloody date I can manage. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oops! All Politics!</p><p>This is almost a bit of a recap chapter (in the sense that it fills in any missing context for the upcoming vote), but for the characters experiencing these events, there's some new things they've learned, and some further changes looming on the horizon!</p><p>Eagle-eyed readers might pick up on a couple subtle little implications ;^)</p><p>Let me know what you thought - we're in the home stretch for this particular plotline, almost done with the politics for now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Ring Finger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Susan learns some new information, and so does Harry</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Susan</span>
</p><p>
  <em>The Monday After Lady Orpington’s Party</em>
</p><p>Susan clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and stood from her desk.</p><p>She gripped the letter she’d just completed between fingers that felt clumsy at the ends of her arms, and plodded out of her office on stiff legs that seemed to not want to obey her wishes.</p><p><em>I’m not a quitter, </em>Susan reminder herself, <em>but I broke promises that I made. I’ve gotta face the music for that. </em></p><p>She walked slowly and carefully through the now-familiar halls of the Ministry, making her way to Robards’ office. Her hands threatened to tremble, but Susan took a deep breath, forced her body to listen to her for at least a few minutes, and knocked on the door.</p><p>“Enter,” Robards spoke from within.</p><p>Susan opened the heavy door <em>(which seemed so much heavier in this moment), </em>held her head high, and walked into the office. It was a recognizable sight that greeted her; Robards hunched behind his desk, a too-cold coffee left forgotten to the side of reams of paperwork.</p><p>
  <em>I’m almost gonna miss this.</em>
</p><p>“Miss Bones,” Robards nodded, “what can I do for you?”</p><p>“Nothing much, I’m afraid,” Susan admitted, “I have a letter for you.”</p><p>She passed the paper to Robards, and stood at attention in front of his desk, waiting to be dismissed.</p><p>“This is a letter of resignation,” Robards hummed, after he took a few moments to scan the contents.</p><p>“As I stated in it,” Susan grumbled, “I’ve violated some of the oaths which my employment here was contingent upon.”</p><p>“You’ve spoken to Harry,” Robards made a long, thoughtful noise which almost sounded like a groan, “about the threats facing him.”</p><p>“Yup,” Susan confirmed, “and I’d do it again.”</p><p>“How did he react?”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“How did Harry Potter,” Robards smiled faintly, “react to the news that there’s at least two separate Dark Wizard factions who have taken renewed interest in him?”</p><p>“Not like I expected,” Susan shrugged, “to put it plainly, he said that he’d be available if we needed another wand on-hand, but he’s not going to take it on himself to chase them down.”</p><p>“Did you reveal the existence of a prophecy?” Robards tapped his fingers against her letter, producing a dry rattling sound.</p><p>“That part I kept secret,” Susan didn’t care to burden her friend with any more nonsense about ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’, she rather thought that he’d had more than enough of that in his life to date.</p><p>“I see,” Robards lapsed into silence, and reached for his frigid cup of coffee. He took a long sip of the bitter liquid, and seemed to be satisfied by it, as much as the idea baffled Susan. “Why doesn’t he want to get personally involved?”</p><p>“He said it’s just how his life is,” Susan grumbled, “that there’s always going to be some Dark Lord wannabe out there, somewhere, and that these types are always going to fixate on Harry. Honestly, he seemed almost unbothered by the knowledge.”</p><p>“Merlin,” Robards chuckled, “it’s a miracle; the boy’s <em>learning</em>.”</p><p>“I suppose so,” Susan couldn’t quite understand how Harry had been so unworried when she’d revealed things to him, if she were in the same situation, she would have been an equal mix of furious and terrified.</p><p><em>Hell, </em>she thought, <em>I’m pretty close to “furious” when I think about it now, and I’m not even directly involved. </em></p><p>“I suppose that experience is, after all, the best teacher,” Robards mused, “and I rather suspect that Harry is the foremost expert in battling Dark Wizards by that metric. Maybe Mad-Eye could have compared to him, but Alastor trained Harry, anyways; in some regards, I rather suspect that Harry was basically his protégé.”</p><p>“He’s the best duellist I’ve ever witnessed,” Susan added, “that’s for damn sure. Anyways, that’s what happened. Now that you know what I’ve done, I’m hoping you won’t send me to jail, but I understand if you need to punish me.”</p><p>“That’s true,” Robards looked at her, and grinned an uncharacteristically sarcastic-looking smile, “and I do believe that I have the ideal punishment in mind for you, Miss Bones.”</p><p>Robards calmly placed her letter of resignation down on his desk, reached out to grab a stamp from its stand, and brought the implement down on her letter with a heavy <em>thud</em>.</p><p>He’d marked the paper with bold, red letters, ones which read <strong>DENIED.</strong></p><p>“Sir?” Susan was confused.</p><p>“As punishment for your actions,” Robards spoke, “I’ve decided that the most fitting form of discipline is to require you to remain active on this case. There’ll be an awful lot of paperwork, especially considering what we’ve recently discovered.”</p><p>“I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Miss Bones,” Robards smiled again, “no, Susan. I understand why you would have brought this letter to me, since we did make you swear to certain forms of secrecy and all. That’s the funny thing about secrets, though; the person responsible for sharing them in the first place gets to decide when they can become widely known.”</p><p>“You don’t… you’re not upset?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Robards gestured with his coffee cup, an unexpectedly dramatic flourish from him, “things changed when an assassin nearly killed Daphne Greengrass, and in fact would have succeeded were it not for the intervention of Harry Potter, and a fortuitous, fatal flight from one specific raven. I completely agree with your decision to inform Harry that there are forces lurking in the shadows with their baleful gazes fixed firmly to him; in fact, I was planning to order you to tell him exactly what you already have. If anything, you’ve shown initiative, and it would seem awfully foolish to me, to discard someone with your potential just because you technically violated the letter of the law.”</p><p>“So, I’m not… fired?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Robards answered, “if anything, I rather expect that you’ll be one of the busiest members of the DMLE for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>“I wasn’t expecting that,” Susan stood a bit straighter, “what are your orders, sir?”</p><p>“The tip that you brought in the previous week,” Robards explained, “regarding one Archimedes Yaxley. That information has been more valuable than we could have expected at the time.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Mister Yaxley is presently in Auror custody,” Robards smiled contentedly, “thankfully, he came in quietly. While he may be a scoundrel and will likely spend several years in prison, <em>this </em>Yaxley is no hardened criminal. In fact, he’s been outright helpful, though stubbornly reticent to reveal one particular piece of information that we believe he holds.”</p><p>“What’s he been booked in for?” Susan was almost happy to hear this, and as she ran the details over in her mind, she reset her own mindset from her previous state of ‘resignedly defeated’ to her more natural persona.</p><p>“Illegal portkey manufacture,” Robards answered.</p><p>Susan let a low whistle out. <em>Not a small crime, that one.</em></p><p>“That’s not the easiest charm to manage,” Susan mused, “sure, it’s a simple incantation and all, but you need to be a pretty deft hand to make sure that the destination is bang-on accurate, to make sure you don’t splotch on arrival.”</p><p>A “splotch” was, in many ways, the opposite of “splinching”. The risk of apparition (when poorly managed) was always that you might not bring all of yourself along, whereas an ill-made portkey might wind up teleporting someone into the middle of an object that was already at the destination point.</p><p>“Indeed,” Robards agreed, “Mister Yaxley, as it turns out, is somewhat of a prodigy when it comes to this specific area of Charms-work.”</p><p>“So, who’s he been making them for?” Susan wondered, “wait, where have the arrival points been?”</p><p>“The first question is exactly what we’re still trying to determine,” Robards revealed, “the second is, to be honest, rather troubling: the arrival points are all throughout London, both Magical and non-Magical alike.”</p><p>“Violating the statute of secrecy, too?”</p><p>“We suspect that whoever is responsible for commissioning these portkeys,” Robards continued, “has likely obtained properties in the Muggle world as well. The entire enterprise seems to be designed to bring people from outside of Magical Britain into our borders, without any way for the Ministry to pick up on their arrival.”</p><p>“The Neo-Grindelwaldists?” Susan wondered, “they’re mostly active throughout Europe, yeah? And we’ve already had one – that Grünfeld fellow – show up in suspicious circumstances lately.”</p><p>“Exactly what we fear,” Robards confirmed, “it appears that Mister Yaxley was, at worst, somewhat of a patsy in this scheme, but the danger that someone or someone<em>s</em> have been distributing portkeys throughout Magical Europe…”</p><p>“They might show up with an army of Grindelwald-following terrorists at any time,” Susan realized, “and we have no way of finding out where these portkeys have already gone.”</p><p>“No way,” Robards nodded, “unless we can pry loose the identity of Mister Yaxley’s benefactor. Whether or not that person is also distributing these portkeys, who can say, but it’s a reasonable deduction that they’ll at least know how many have already been handed out.”</p><p><em>Fuck, this isn’t good, </em>Susan had to admit, it was a clever scheme; it would be hard to detect unless you already knew what you were looking for, and with destination points scattered throughout the magical and non-magical worlds, there was no way to apply blanket charms to prevent portkey usage.</p><p>“This is your next task,” Robards commanded, “figure out a way of interrogating Mister Yaxley – that doesn’t rise to the level of ‘torture’, mind you – that might loosen his lips. The case is yours, Miss Bones.”</p><p>“I won’t let you down,” Susan promised, “well, again, that is.”</p><p>“You haven’t yet,” Robards reassured, “now, go terrify the fellow we’ve got in custody.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, you bet your arse I will.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Later That Evening</em>
</p><p>Archimedes Yaxley hadn’t exactly been <em>helpful, </em>but neither had he been useless.</p><p>All it had taken was for Susan to have idly mused about the recent assassination attempt on Daphne Greengrass, wondered if, perhaps, it might have been found that the deceased Geoffrey Selwyn had been one of Yaxley’s clients, and the nervous-looking man had been ready to spill everything he knew.</p><p>Unfortunately, ‘everything he knew’ didn’t amount to a whole lot. It seemed that his most reliable client was a “Mr. Rose” – an obvious pseudonym – who always wore a mask whenever he met with Yaxley to procure a new batch of illegal portkeys.</p><p>“Mr. Rose” sounded like it <em>must </em>be a nickname for one of the Rosiers – especially since Wesley of their clan had already been arrested for transporting Dark artefacts – a ruse so transparent that Susan figured that they were perhaps the only suspicious family who could be ruled out from preliminary investigations.</p><p><em>These Pureblood gits are about as sharp as a sack of hammers, </em>Susan thought, <em>but they’ve got a pretty good grasp on the basics of secrecy and cloak-and-dagger bullshit. </em></p><p>Susan sighed and poured herself a nice tall glass of whisky – Muggle, not magical – and sat down in her study.</p><p>The previous few days had been particularly trying, and now that it seemed like, somehow, everything was going to work out, she didn’t feel the warm flood of catharsis that she’d been hoping for. Instead, Susan still felt as if there were metaphorical plates spinning at the end of various sticks, and she had to keep running around, balancing them so that none would fall.</p><p><em>No wonder I’m so awful at dating, </em>Susan mused with a hint of bitterness, <em>I can just barely manage to keep up with being Lady Bones and the deputy-head of the DMLE at once. </em></p><p>As she took a long sip of her of whisky, the burn down her throat helped to recentre her a little bit, if nothing else. Susan sighed, and flipped open a folder on her desk; one of her many lists of possible suspects, which had only grown since she’d first written it down.</p><p><em>I’m not great at the procedural parts of investigating things, </em>she thought, <em>never thought there’d be so much bloody paperwork involved in law enforcement.</em></p><p>She had half a mind to call Harry up, invite him over to split the rest of her whisky, and utterly exploit his good nature to enroll him as her assistant in filling out paperwork and investigative reports.</p><p><em>Ugh, I’m just glad that I didn’t manage to make a mess of things with him, </em>she thought back on the night when she’d revealed the whole “by the way, there’s Dark Wizards after you” thing to him, and couldn’t help but kind of cringe at how she’d conducted herself.</p><p><em>Like, yeah, </em>she admitted, <em>I’m lonely and all, but that doesn’t mean that I have to wrap myself around Harry like I’m trying to become his girlfriend or something. </em></p><p>Still, the physical contact had been nice, even if Susan was somewhat tempted to beat her head against her desk when she remembered it.</p><p>She heard a steady <em>thud, thud, thud </em>against her window, and for a moment, wondered if she’d already lost it, and had started to hear sound effects based on how she wanted to dramatically overreact. Fortunately, the sound had a more logical explanation; an owl perched outside the window to her study, and was steady kicking its foot against the pane of glass.</p><p><em>Hmm, </em>she thought, <em>not one of the Ministry owls, you. Nor Gringotts. Wonder where you flew in from?</em></p><p>Susan opened her window, and the owl made a squawk that sounded awfully like it was offended by how long she’d taken, before presenting one of its talons – clasped around a scroll – to her. Something about the wax emblem on the outside looked vaguely familiar to Susan, but when she looked up to inspect the owl again, it was already flying away.</p><p><em>Friendly one, aren’t you? </em>She closed the window, sat down at her desk, and pulled a knife out of one of the drawers. Sure, a letter opener would have been the typical implement to use, but Susan thought that the big, fuck-off knife fit her general mood better.</p><p><em>Lady Susan Bones, </em>she started to read the letter, <em>you were recently overheard making disparaging comments not only towards the Heiress of House Parkinson, but towards myself, and the reputation of my House as a whole. </em></p><p>She paused reading, and took a much longer sip of her whisky. Susan figured she’d need a good dose of liquid courage <em>(“liquid patience” might be more fitting in this case) </em>to handle reading the rest of the letter.</p><p>
  <em>You have two options to make recompense for this offense:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Offering a public apology for this statement, recanting the claims that you had made, also accompanied by the payment of exactly one-hundred thousand Galleons, made within one week of receipt of this letter, or;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Publicly recanting your claims, as with the previous option, but instead of paying gold, publicly swearing a magical oath to support my House and its pursuits for the next year.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you do not find either of these options appealing, then I am more than happy to declare a Blood Feud between our Houses instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I suggest you choose wisely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lord Penrose Parkinson</em>
</p><p>Susan finished the rest of her drink, poured half of a second one, finished that, and then finally let the outburst she’d been holding back loose:</p><p>“Fuck!” Susan cursed, “Shitty fucking dickhead! God fucking damnit!”</p><p>It was a stupid mistake she’d made – alleging that Penrose might have been a Death Eater in all but name, where others could have overheard her words – but Susan felt in her heart that her words hadn’t been <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>This response was, honestly, a fairly predictable one: Penrose had laid two horrible offers at her feet, making the option of simply paying him a vast sum of money to make this problem disappear the most appealing.</p><p>Sure, she technically had a fourth option available; if she duelled Penrose himself, then they could satisfy the insult to each others’ honour before a Blood Feud could be declared, but from how reclusive he’d been <em>(nobody’s actually seen him in person in weeks, I wonder how he even heard of what I said), </em>she didn’t like her odds of tracking him down within the next week.</p><p>A Blood Feud would make things really messy: it would obligate, through laws of magic, any members of House Bones and House Parkinson to duel each other on sight, and each duel would have to be fought until first blood.</p><p><em>Would certainly liven up the fucking parties that Pansy and I keep winding up at, </em>Sue almost considered going for this option, but the downsides were too substantial.</p><p>If Harry and Pansy got more serious about their relationship, then <em>Harry </em>might well wind up ensnared by the same Blood Feud ritual, and in turn, one of her best friends and her would be obligated to attack each other every time they wanted to hang out.</p><p>She didn’t exactly think that their friendship – recently reignited as it was – would manage to survive those sorts of conditions.</p><p>Susan certainly didn’t want to pay that much money to bloody Lord Parkinson. Even if she could just barely afford it, it would come close to wiping out the entirety of her savings, and that was counting the windfall she’d received from winning duels against Burke and his merry gang.</p><p><em>Are they trying to get their money back with this scheme? </em>She wondered.</p><p>Penrose Parkinson hadn’t exactly been a public ally of Humphrey Burke (and the rest), but that wasn’t necessarily a conclusive indication of his true allegiance. With how she and Harry had noticed a conspicuous number of Heads of House absent from Artaxes Carrow’s event, Susan started to wonder if these men might have cooked up this scheme in a dark basement of one of their mansions, rather than on the floor of a ballroom.</p><p>The timeline was difficult to handle, on top of everything else going on. The vote on Cyrus’s disastrous “Rights and Responsibilities” bill was later that week and she was trying to uncover an international conspiracy of Dark wizards; Susan absolutely did <em>not </em>need this additional complication.</p><p><em>Fucking Parkinsons, </em>she thought, as she poured herself a third drink.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>
  <em>Three Days Before the Vote</em>
</p><p>Harry did his best not to fidget, as he sat in an ornate chair, in front of an even-more-ornate desk, deep in the bowels of Gringotts. He’d known that the business he had to attend to wasn’t exactly typical, but he’d never received <em>this </em>much attention just on showing up, not even when he’d made amends with the Goblins after the war ended.</p><p>After a wait that felt long enough to almost seem intentional, the doors to the room finally swung open, and no fewer than six elite guards entered. Harry stood to his feet, since it seemed like the appropriate sort of reaction.</p><p>“Behold!” one of the guards bellowed, “King Ragnuk the Fifth! He of the golden tooth!”</p><p>The guards bowed so deeply that their helmeted heads scraped against the floor, and Harry – figuring that he should probably extend some sort of respectful gesture – bowed towards the door as well.</p><p>“Stand up, you lot,” the goblin who entered spoke in a strong, deep voice, “especially you, Lord Potter-Black.”</p><p>As Harry returned to a standing position, he noticed that King Ragnuk certainly looked the part of goblin royalty; he wore heavy plate armour with a dark red hue to it <em>(“blood armour”, if I remember right), </em>and carried an ornate-looking sword at his waist. He was taller than most of his kin; certainly still on the “short” side compared to the human average, but wide enough across the shoulders that Harry wouldn’t have bet on many people in a fist-fight against Ragnuk.</p><p>“Alright, the announcement’s over,” the King bellowed, “you lot: out!”</p><p>The guards bowed once again, then managed to scurry backwards out of the room while maintaining the pose.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” Ragnuk grinned, and showed off the titular golden tooth that his guard had mentioned, “a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Want anything? Wine? Whisky? Blood-wine?”</p><p>“Whisky would be fantastic,” Harry answered, “er… my lord?”</p><p>“From one man with too many fucking titles to another,” Ragnuk poured two servings of whisky (that somehow <em>looked </em>expensive) into long, twisting horns that served as drinking vessels, “just ‘Ragnuk’ is fine.”</p><p>“Thank fucking goodness,” Harry slumped into his chair after graciously accepting the horn of whisky, “uh, that is, yeah, ‘Harry’ is fine for me, too.”</p><p>“You might be wondering why I’m here to meet with you,” Ragnuk showed his toothy smile once again, “after all, the request you’d made is a fairly routine one, eh?”</p><p>“I’m afraid there isn’t much about me that winds up being routine,” Harry grumbled, “I’m kind of assuming that your men have uncovered something that I’d rather not hear about.”</p><p>“Ha!” Ragnuk barked a hearty laugh, “that may very well be the case another time, but no, not today. Tell me, Harry Potter, do you know what it was that you did, after the end of your Second Wizarding War?”</p><p>“As far as I see it,” Harry did his best to answer diplomatically-enough, “I just repaid a debt that I owed.”</p><p>“There aren’t many who would see it that way,” Ragnuk hummed in thought, a rich baritone sound that practically filled the room, “few among our people, and none among yours, at least in our past dealings with the Wizarding world.”</p><p>“I don’t see any reason why Wizards and Goblins have been enemies so often,” Harry shrugged, “granted, I’m hardly any kind of diplomat, but the only differences I see between our peoples are maybe some cultural practices?”</p><p>“Even so,” Ragnuk laughed, “cultural differences have <em>never </em>led to bloodshed, in either of our histories, right?”</p><p>“Maybe a few times,” Harry admitted, “like, uh, whenever two different cultures meet…”</p><p>“Now that’s more realistic,” Ragnuk took a long pull from his drink, “which makes it odd that a conquering king – for all intent – took his spoils and distributed them to one of the rival cultures to his own.”</p><p>“As I said, I had a debt to repay,” Harry frowned at the memory of what Hermione, Ron, and himself had had to do to break into Gringotts, “I’m simply thankful that my efforts were sufficient.”</p><p>“’Sufficient’, he says,” Ragnuk shook his head, “you are a strange man, Harry Potter.”</p><p>“I’ve heard that before, I’m afraid,” Harry chuckled nervously.</p><p>“You know, it’s a good thing you’re a Wizard,” Ragnuk joked, “you’d be a shite Goblin. No idea of how to assess value, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Heard that one too,” Harry nodded.</p><p>“Which brings me to the point of why I’ve greeted you,” Ragnuk produced a golden key from somewhere, then started fussing with one of the drawers at his desk, “I’ve heard, of course, of what service you wished to purchase today. Fortunately for you, this is one that we’ve actually already performed; it was necessary for my own pursuits.”</p><p>He retrieved a box from within his desk, an ornate one carved from a deep, dark wood. Ragnuk slid the box across the desk, and Harry had to snatch it up before it fell all the way into his lap.</p><p>“What you have sought is within,” Ragnuk spoke mysteriously.</p><p><em>Well, that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, </em>Harry had come with what he’d thought were fairly bureaucratic issues in mind, not something with this much ceremony surrounding it.</p><p>He opened the box, and within, resting on a pad of black velvet, was a glittering ring. It was bright silver, set with a single, glimmering diamond, and the stone itself had a familiar emblem carved into it.</p><p>“Silver from my personal smithy,” Ragnuk explained, “and the diamond was a donation from the hoard of an ancient dragon. None can question your claim, not with this on your hand.”</p><p>“This is…” Harry was astounded, “too generous.”</p><p>“It is a gift,” Ragnuk flashed his golden tooth again, “but, as I’m sure you’ve learned in your life as Lord Potter-Black, not all gifts come without strings attached.”</p><p>“Is this a loan, then?” Harry still didn’t have the best grasp over the goblins’ concept of ‘property’, but he’d certainly learned enough of it to know that permanently transferring ownership was fairly rare.</p><p>“Not at all,” Ragnuk shrugged, “that ring is yours now, to use as you see fit. By the laws of magic and the land alike – and trust me, we’ve dug into them – it is yours by blood, by deed, and by right.”</p><p>“It’s exactly what I needed,” Harry closed the box, not willing to wear the ring just yet, “which, I guess, means I have to ask what it is that you need from me?”</p><p>“Your honesty is refreshing,” Ragnuk laughed, “not many politicians are so up-front. Good! It is actually of politics that I wish to speak. The climate in your government is somewhat, hmm, tense at the moment, is it not?”</p><p>“There’s only been one attempted assassination in the past month,” Harry drawled, “so not as bad as it could be, really.”</p><p>“An omen of ill portent for what we wish to achieve,” Ragnuk nodded to himself, “but things will not always remain thus. Especially when you wield the powers available to you, I have no doubt that the political sphere in your world will be reshaped, and I suspect that there will come a time when the forges run hot, the metal must be cast.”</p><p>Harry wasn’t familiar with the idiom, but he thought it probably translated to something very much like “strike when the iron is hot”.</p><p>“When this time comes,” Ragnuk continued, “it is my hope that you’ll remember this gift, and that we might count on your support.”</p><p>“What would I be supporting?” Harry wondered.</p><p>“The founding of House Goldentooth,” Ragnuk grinned, “our two worlds have remained divided for too long; Magicals must unite <em>before</em> we wind inevitably up revealed to the mundane.”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry nodded immediately, “yeah, you’ve got my support. That makes sense, really.”</p><p>“That easy?” Ragnuk chuckled, “truly, you’re a strange one, for a Wizard.”</p><p>“I think I’m a strange one compared to pretty much anyone,” Harry admitted, “but, yeah, I support Magical People’s rights and all that. You <em>are </em>aware that my best friend is Hermione Granger, right?”</p><p>“Some of my advisors,” Ragnuk waved his hand dismissively at the phrase, “thought that your public support of such causes might not extend to your private life. I’m pleased to see that they were wrong – like usual, brainless scrap that they are.”</p><p>“How would you found a house?” Harry wondered, “I’d vote in support, certainly, but I’m not sure I’ve even got enough pull to stop the Pureblood gits from pulling our society down around us to spite me, let alone actually helping enact new change.”</p><p>“That’s the trick,” Ragnuk chuckled, “when you gave us your Rights of Conquest? Well, technically, House Dolohov – may Antonin be pounded on the anvil of damnation for eternity – is now under my domain.”</p><p>“Ah,” Harry realized.</p><p>“I still have your support?”</p><p>“Of course,” Harry nodded, “least I could do, really.”</p><p>The box in his lap felt a bit heavier, but not because of what he’d agreed to; no, it was because he’d just negotiated a deal which could shake the foundations of Wizarding society with a <em>King </em>of another people, and he’d done so almost as if Ragnuk viewed them as equals.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Plot developments! Intrigue! Pansy's dad finally makes an "appearance" to fuck things up!</p><p>The political plotline (as you might be able to guess from the new "countdown" in the scene headers) is coming to a climax pretty soon, and then the denouement of Blood and Bones will refocus on the trio's relationship, which remains the core of this whole series - no matter how far afield it roams at times!</p><p>I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, and I suspect that some readers might have figured out what Harry's "Plan B" is by now ;^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Cochlea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An unexpected visitor comes with a proposition</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>
  <em>Two Days Before the Vote</em>
</p><p>Daphne was not, all things considered, having the best time as of late.</p><p><em>One of my better friends had a very public argument with my girlfriend, </em>she recounted her various struggles, <em>which has resulted in Pansy’s dad threatening a fucking Blood Feud, of all things. I haven’t seen Sue since that night, which is a more notable absence than I’d realized. </em></p><p>
  <em>Said girlfriend has been in a right foul mood ever since her father interjected himself in her life once again, which is certainly understandable, but doesn’t make it any easier to spend time around her, not when she’s snapping and snarling at everything that gets within range of her like this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Usually, my boyfriend would be a source of support during the times when Pans gets a little bit extra stroppy, but Harry’s ensconced himself away with a bunch of ancient tomes and grimoires, which is quite frankly concerning, considering how he’s repeatedly alluded to it having something to do with his plans to prevent the Rights and Responsibilities bill from passing…</em>
</p><p><em>Which is a whole other thing in and of itself, </em>Daphne could have thrown her head back in frustration at just how much was piling up around her, <em>my bloody father is holding the future of Magical Britain hostage, but more than that, he’s trying to bring my own life back under his control, what with how the bill would affect Harry directly. </em></p><p><em>If all that wasn’t enough, there’s <strong>also </strong>a conspiracy of Dark Wizards targeting Harry in some way or another, and I’ve already wound up as one of their secondary targets. It’s enough to drive a woman mad, </em>she thought, given how her concerns ranged from “annoying” to “lethally dangerous”, <em>but let’s hope that at least half of these troubles will be over by the end of the week. </em></p><p>Daphne was thankful for the opportunity to meet Hermione for tea. Harry’s best friend was quickly becoming one of her best friends as well – a predictable merging of social circles, she supposed – and no matter what topics they discussed, Hermione was keenly aware of many subtle details and implications which might have eluded even Daphne’s notice.</p><p>They’d covered politics <em>(of course), </em>and now wound up on the more interesting, though perhaps equally as unsettling, topic of deep Magic.</p><p>“How is it, do you think,” Daphne pondered, “that so many otherwise-unimpressive wizards were capable of casting Forbidden Curses during the last war? A spell of such fearsome power would usually be the realm of the most capable practitioners of magic, and yet…”</p><p>“I’ve always suspected,” Hermione sipped her tea, “that it has more to do with the <em>‘intent’ </em>part of magic, rather than skill or knowledge. Death Eaters are, as a rule, utter lunatics, with vanishingly rare exceptions, and fanatics devoted to a particular magical cause might well find their abilities enhanced while they act in pursuit of that cause.”</p><p>“The attempted assassin, Geoffrey Selwyn,” Daphne felt a sour taste in her mouth mentioning her would-be-killer’s name, “he could cast the curse, and while we have no idea what cause he was devoted to, it hardly seems that there would be a Dark Lord of similar power to the last one hiding somewhere, whose magics his followers might be able to siphon from.”</p><p>“Madness is a power of its own,” Viktor hummed as he walked by, “many of the most infamous Wizards of Bulgaria, of Romania? They had titles such as ‘the mad’, ‘the insane’, and so on.”</p><p>“That’s a good point,” Hermione agreed, “you said that this Selwyn man ranted and raved about some sort of prophecy, before he killed himself? Hardly what I would call the actions of a well-balanced mind.”</p><p>Daphne found Viktor Krum’s presence in Hermione’s life to be an incredibly endearing contradiction; simply on the physical level, when he was contrasted against the fairly petite Hermione Granger, the hulking Seeker almost gave off the impression of a tamed bear wandering around her flat.</p><p>Not that he was either physically clumsy or “beastly” in temperament, of course. Viktor was, in fact, shockingly domestic (given what little Daphne knew of his public reputation), happy to simply meander around the apartment and make sure that the two women had a steady supply of tea and various snacks.</p><p>“Well, he might not have been <em>completely </em>mad,” Daphne hummed, continuing the topic as much as she disliked it, “Harry mentioned that the DMLE made him aware of some sort of Grindelwald-following faction that’s taken an interest in him… they may well think that there’s some sort of prophecy involved.”</p><p>“If a man follows the teachings of Grindelwald,” Viktor spat, “then he is mad, no matter how pretty the words he speaks might be.”</p><p>This was another area where Viktor was, again, somewhat contradictory compared to what one might expect: for someone who attended Durmstrang <em>(known for its lax approach to Dark Magic), </em>he stood resolutely opposed to anything that even <em>hinted </em>at darker inclinations.</p><p>“Viktor,” Daphne wondered, “do you know of House Grünfeld? From Austria and Germany, primarily.”</p><p>“I have heard the name,” Viktor shrugged, “but it is very good I have never met one of them. If I did, there would be a fight.”</p><p>“I take it they’re known as supporters of Grindelwald, then?” Hermione reached out to pet her enormous boyfriend’s arm, as if soothing a giant hound.</p><p>“Generation after generation of them, yes,” Viktor confirmed.</p><p>“They’re relatives of mine, as it turns out,” Daphne admitted, “a distant branch of the Greengrass family tree, but springing from the same root all the same. I can’t puzzle out why someone who planned to kill me brought one of my somethingth-cousins, so-and-so-removed, along with him.”</p><p>“A show of force, perhaps?” Hermione wondered, “I don’t want to dredge up anything even more unpleasant than the current topic, but it’s possible that Grünfeld’s presence was meant to serve as a message to your father.”</p><p>Daphne had already considered the possibility that her father might have been in on the plot to kill her, then discarded that idea immediately. Her father was many things, most of them unpleasant, but he was absolutely not someone who would ever stand for a member of his family being harmed.</p><p><em>For all his many flaws, </em>Daphne recalled, <em>his commitment to ensuring the future and status of House Greengrass has been a constant drive of his. </em></p><p>“I rather doubt that he’s on-board with any Grindelwaldist groups,” Daphne argued, “I’m not a fan of my father, as you know, but he didn’t even fall into the Dark when he was actively being courted by a Dark Lord ruling over Magical Britain at the time.”</p><p>“There’s a number of things that seem somewhat incongruous, from what you’ve described of your upbringing,” Hermione nodded, “such as the oddity that he’s so devoted to traditionalist causes now, despite never passing along any messages of Blood Purity to you during your childhood…”</p><p>“Yeah,” Daphne agreed, “for all that he’s an utter prick, he’s not a simple man, I guess.”</p><p>“Speaking of complicated men,” Hermione snorted, “I hate to say it, but as much as he despises the title, the fact that Harry is definitively the ‘Man-Who-Won’ probably plays a role in whatever cloak-and-dagger nonsense is going on in his life.”</p><p>“I think he’s actually planning on staying out of it, for now,” Daphne grumbled, “not that I disapprove of this plan – I want him to stay safe, of course – but it almost seems at odds with his reputation as an ‘act first, think about it sometime later’ sort.”</p><p>“It must be a miracle of magic,” Hermione smirked, a subtle, wry expression on her, “that he’s managed to grow up a little bit. Who could have imagined, that having someone who’s a bit more conscientious than he is in his life might have had beneficial effects?”</p><p>“Well, it’s not just me,” Daphne laughed, “Pansy’s almost as bad as he is, when it comes to acting first, that is.”</p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Hermione frowned, “Susan’s told me about the threats that Pansy’s father has made. Do we want to try and come up with a way to deal with that?”</p><p>“That part’s out of my hands,” Daphne sighed, “I’ve asked both of them to behave a bit more civilly to each other a few times now, and both Susan and Pansy seem to be spectacularly committed to their ongoing feud, whether or not it’s done for the public benefit of our little conspiracy.”</p><p>“It’s worse if it escalates to an actual Blood Feud,” Hermione muttered, “not that anyone even knows where to <em>find </em>Penrose Parkinson, let alone convince him to see reason.”</p><p>“I’m half-tempted,” Daphne admitted, “to encourage Harry to go in all wand-a-blazing, kicking doors down, that whole thing. Lord Parkinson might have the guts to try and go after Sue, but I rather doubt that he’s brave enough to try and cross wands with the Lord Potter-Black.”</p><p><em>Harry’s adapted to that title better than I expected, </em>Daphne thought, <em>even now, he’s busy meeting with members of different neutral Houses, trying to drum up the last few votes we’d need to prevent father’s bill from passing. </em></p><p>She found Harry’s competency in politics to be surprisingly appealing: it was a world that Daphne had thought she was forever free of, and yet… she couldn’t help but recognize that plans and politics were <em>strengths </em>of hers.</p><p>Having someone by her side who was just as capable <em>(if a bit less subtle than I am) </em>made her feel reassured of their future together, as backwards as the fact felt to her more rebellious side.</p><p><em>Not like Pansy’s a slouch, either. </em>Daphne wasn’t exactly thrilled by the fact that Pansy owed Fleur Delacour an undefined “favour” to be redeemed in the future, but it was worth it, for the way that she had managed to so thoroughly dismantle the plans that Lady Zabini had tried to make.</p><p><em>To hear Pansy tell the tale, </em>Daphne remembered, <em>Fleur Delacour basically sent the black widow scurrying away as if her life was in danger. </em></p><p>Daphne wished that she’d been there to see that: she liked Blaise just fine, but she’d despised his mother ever since she’d first met the woman, as a girl attending various Pureblood tea parties.</p><p>“I think we should remember that that <em>is </em>an option we can resort to,” Hermione surprised Daphne by agreeing, “I hate to say it, but if the Wizengamot devotes itself to ensuring the rise of some sort of Dark Lord <em>eventually</em>… we might be better served by cutting the head off that particular snake before it can bite.”</p><p>Their conversation was interrupted by a polite <em>tap-tap-tap </em>against Hermione’s window, where a gorgeous, all-white owl perched, a scroll clutched in one of its talons.</p><p><em>I swear to Merlin, if this is the announcement of another feud of some sort… </em>Daphne dreaded to see what someone might be owling Hermione about.</p><p>“Oh, aren’t you pretty!” Hermione seemed less concerned as she stood up to open her window, “I haven’t seen you before, pretty bird!”</p><p>The owl made a soft trilling sound, as it hopped inside the room. Rather than presenting its letter to Hermione, it continued to hop along various furniture of hers, until the owl made its way to the table in front of Daphne, where it thrust one taloned foot forwards.</p><p>“Odd,” Daphne said, as she accepted the scroll, “I wonder who would be owling me at your flat?”</p><p>“It has to be someone we know,” Hermione noted, “did Harry finally get a new owl? This one sort of looks like Hedwig, actually…”</p><p>“Not that I know of,” Daphne glanced to the scroll, which indeed, had ‘<em>TO DAPHNE GREENGRASS’ </em>written in an elegant, flowing hand on its label. She unwrapped it, and quickly skimmed the contents:</p><p>
  <em>Hi Daphne!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We haven’t spoken in a while, so I figured an owl would be the best way to contact you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’d like to meet with you and Pansy to have a little chat, hopefully this evening? It’s a bit last minute, I know, but I felt like this was the right time to talk!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let me know when you’re free! Just write your response on this scroll, and give it back to Eirwen here – that’s my owl, by the way – and she’ll fly it back to me!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Luna Lovegood.</em>
</p><p>“Huh,” Daphne scribbled a time a few hours later on the scroll, then gave it back to Eirwen the owl, “do you happen to have any idea why Luna Lovegood would be writing to me?”</p><p>“Daphne,” Hermione chuckled, “I gave up on trying to make sense of Luna <em>years </em>ago. I’d advise you to do the same, otherwise you’ll drive yourself half mad.”</p><p><em>Curious, </em>Daphne thought, <em>the timing of this request even more so. I’d thought she was out of the country; she must have returned recently.</em></p><p>Daphne supposed that all she could do was wait and see. She opened her notebook and sent a message to Pansy, informing her of this “meeting” coming up.</p><hr/><p>She and Pansy had settled on <em>Serpentine </em>as a suitable place to meet with Luna. Pansy was still in a bit of a snit, so Daphne wasn’t feeling too optimistic about whatever Lovegood had in mind, but she supposed that had a lot to do with <em>what</em>, precisely, the mysterious blonde had to propose.</p><p><em>Not likely that it’s political, </em>Daphne pondered, <em>though her reappearance is well-timed so that we can count on her votes in two days…</em></p><p>As the Floo flared to life, Daphne supposed that one mystery, at least, was about to be resolved.</p><p>“Hullo!” Luna called out as she wandered out from the fireplace, “Daphne, it’s nice to see you again! Pansy, I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced,” Luna strolled over towards the pair of women, then thrust her hand out for a handshake, “I’m Luna Lovegood! Hi!”</p><p>
  <em>She certainly makes an impression, even if I have no idea what that impression is…</em>
</p><p>Luna was dressed rather unconventionally: she wore tight jeans that had been bleached so many times they nearly appeared white, a tie-dye t-shirt which had been knotted off in the front, and purple, high-top Muggle sneakers. The whole ensemble was topped off with a single earring <em>(a ceramic radish, if I have it right), </em>and a bright pink, rubbery-looking raincoat.</p><p>The outfit shouldn’t have worked as well as it did, but Daphne figured that Pansy would be more of the expert on such sartorial matters.</p><p>“Lovegood,” Pansy not-quite-snarled as a greeting, “what did you want to tell me?”</p><p>“Oh, a few things,” Luna giggled, apparently immune to Pansy’s intimidating presence, “did you know that your shop is host to a family of Wingelflitts? I’m not surprised, really, they’re awfully attracted to creative energy, but also fire magic, which doesn’t really seem like a fit for a clothing store!”</p><p>“Um,” Pansy’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion, “okay? I’ll keep that in mind?”</p><p>“Ooh!” Luna flounced over towards one wall in particular, which displayed one of Daphne’s paintings <em>– Dress­</em>, a suitably-titled piece which depicted a woman in a long, flowing red dress – and peered at the artwork intently, “is this one of your magic paintings? Hmm, yes, I think it is! Clever little bit of magic on this one! I think it gives off a vibe of ‘impressive’, as hard as that can be to quantify!”</p><p>“Thanks?” Daphne was entirely unsure what to make of this observation. <em>She’s not wearing any charmed eyeglasses or anything, how did she pick apart what magic might have gone into that painting? Especially since I wasn’t even sure what impression it left, beyond “this looks important, somehow”. </em></p><p>“Did you want to meet to… talk about our crafts?” Daphne put forward the only idea that she had.</p><p>“Oh, I’d love to, if you’d like!” Luna nodded to herself, then bounced back over to the duo, “but that wasn’t the main reason I was thinking of, nope!”</p><p>“Lovegood,” Pansy warned, “could you get to the point? We’ve got rather a lot on our plates right now, you know.”</p><p>“Sure!” Luna smiled widely, “I suppose it makes sense you’d want to get down to business, such as it is, considering you’re a business-woman and all!”</p><p>She wandered over to the till, and grabbed the chair from behind it, then pulled it over to where Daphne and Pansy were standing.</p><p>“Don’t you two want to sit?” Luna wondered, “I thought that meetings were supposed to be held in a circle of chairs!”</p><p>“There’s chairs in the back…” Pansy brought one of her hands up to her eyebrows to knead at her forehead, “let’s go talk there, okay?”</p><p>“Oh, that makes much more sense!” Luna proceeded to return the chair to its original location.</p><p>“I’ve just about run out of patience already,” Pansy grumbled.</p><p>“Let’s hear her out, at least,” Daphne said.</p><p>“Okay!” Luna crossed her hands in front of herself, “lead the way! I’m ready for our meeting!”</p><p>“It’s literally the only doorway that isn’t an exit,” Pansy groused, but she started walking in that direction nonetheless.</p><p>Daphne followed behind her, halfway between “utterly baffled” and “intrigued” at what Luna would – eventually – have to tell them.</p><p>“Oh, there’s a lot more interesting clothes back here!” Luna made her way over to one of Pansy’s ‘private stock’, a lacy set of lingerie in dark crimson, “this is awful daring! I kind of like it, though!”</p><p>“That’s not for public wear,” Pansy explained, clearly at the end of her patience, “it’s lingerie.”</p><p>“Ooh, for sex!” Luna nodded, “that makes a lot of sense, it’s a very appealing outfit!”</p><p>Daphne and Pansy took seats at the table in Pansy’s back room, and waited for Luna to continue inspecting different pieces of clothing that caught her eye, before the short blonde finally sat down herself.</p><p><em>She’s even more petite than Pansy is, </em>Daphne thought, <em>and yet, just like Pansy, her presence seems to take up an entire room. </em></p><p>While Luna hadn’t had the same reputation as a “beauty” that Daphne and Pansy had, during Hogwarts, Daphne thought that the years since they’d left school had been kind to the woman: she was certainly petite in all senses of the word, but she had surprisingly well-built legs, and her wide blue-grey eyes were outright captivating in some strange way.</p><p>“So,” Pansy drawled, “what did you want to ask us?”</p><p>“Right!” Luna grinned shamelessly, “I’d like to have sex with Harry, so I thought I’d ask you two first!”</p><p>Daphne had already been prepared for the fact that Luna would undoubtedly be aware of their relationship – somehow – but she hadn’t expected Luna to have known about that particular aspect of it.</p><p>“Why would you even ask us that?” Pansy spluttered.</p><p>“Oh, because the three of you have been dating for a while now,” Luna explained, as if Pansy were actually asking a real question, not a rhetorical one, “and there’s that whole ‘semi-open’ aspect to your relationship, so I thought it would be polite to state my intentions to the two of you, since I already told Harry and all!”</p><p>“How do you even know about that???” Daphne was utterly flabbergasted at the bluntness with which Luna pried apart all the secrets of their relationship.</p><p>“Well, it’s fairly obvious,” Luna smiled beatifically, “both of you have the same Dracosprites around you that Harry does, so it’s pretty easy to tell the two of you have a bond with him and each other, and there’s also Whirling Loop-a-loos around all three of you, which are a sign of open intimacy, so really, how could I not notice it?”</p><p>“What.” Pansy didn’t seem impressed.</p><p>“Oh, also, Padma told me,” Luna bounced in her seat, “we’re rather good friends, you know!”</p><p>“Padma told you,” Daphne couldn’t help but shake her head amusedly, that explanation made <em>much </em>more sense than whatever Luna meant about… loop-a-doos or whatever she’d said.</p><p>“Mhmm!” Luna nodded to herself, “we were both in Ravenclaw, and she was always nice to me back then, so it would make sense that we’d maintain a friendship after school, though I suppose we’ve gotten a lot closer now than we used to be-“</p><p>“It’s not, like, an open relationship just for Harry,” Pansy interrupted, “it’s meant to be a condition for all three of us-“</p><p>“Oh, that’s very equitable!” Luna interrupted her in turn, and Pansy’s expression bounced between ‘outrage’ and ‘shock’ at being conversationally dominated in such a way, “yes, well, that is no worry for me! I’d like to sleep with Harry, of course, but both of you are also very pretty, so I wouldn’t mind that at all!”</p><p>“I didn’t know that you were attracted to women,” Daphne hummed.</p><p>“I think it’s rather silly to limit oneself to only one category,” Luna giggled, “men, women, in-between, or neither, it isn’t important to me! If I’m attracted to someone, I’m attracted to them!”</p><p>“Have you even,” Pansy grumbled, “had sex before?”</p><p>“Tons of times!” Luna beamed an innocent smile entirely at-odds with what she was saying, “like I said, I don’t think it’s wise to limit yourself, so any time that I’ve felt like it, and the other person, or people, also felt like it, sure, why not?”</p><p>“Very libertine of you,” Daphne giggled, “um, you realize that Pansy and I will have to discuss this before we can answer?”</p><p>“Take your time!” Luna hopped off her seat, “I think I’ll try on some of those clothes I saw earlier!”</p><p>“They’re not-“ Pansy started to protest, but Luna was already skipping away from the table.</p><p>“Well,” Daphne started, “this proposition makes a little bit more sense, now, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“I guess so,” Pansy shrugged, “it isn’t like Harry kept her earlier advances secret from us, I guess she wants to cash that cheque now.”</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Pansy huffed, “part of me wants to say yes just to find out what the fuck it would be like, the rest of me thinks that this is awfully out of left field, yeah?”</p><p>“I know what you mean,” Daphne agreed, “it isn’t exactly something we prepared for… but I’m not sure if one <em>can </em>prepare for Luna Lovegood, from what Harry and Hermione have both said about her.”</p><p>The woman in question had disappeared into one of Pansy’s “VIP” changing rooms, leaving the two girlfriends to talk amongst themselves privately.</p><p>“The timing’s a bit tricky,” Pansy tapped a finger against her chin, “but I guess, I dunno… it might be good for Harry?”</p><p>“How do you figure?”</p><p>“Well, they’ve known each other for an awful long time,” Pansy explained her thought process, “maybe it might remind him of simpler times, rather than the whole ‘Lord Potter-Black’ bollocks that he’s caught up in now?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Daphne pondered this, “I think I see what you mean. That raises another question, though: what’s Luna looking for out of this? Do you think she wants in on, well, us? I don’t think that would work for me.”</p><p>“Merlin, no,” Pansy agreed, “if she’s trying to angle to join our relationship, I’m out.”</p><p>“What do you think?” Luna called out as she emerged from the dressing room, “I’d prefer a bit more colours, myself, but I quite like the little strappy parts!”</p><p>Luna had come out wearing the set of lingerie that she’d been admiring earlier, and Daphne had to admit that she was <em>absolutely </em>pulling it off. Her jaw actually dropped a bit; Luna’s legs seemed to make up the majority of her height, and as she idly spun around, looking at herself in the mirror, Daphne couldn’t help but notice that the short blonde had a pretty fantastic little arse.</p><p>“Dammit,” Pansy growled, “I <em>do </em>have a thing for blondes, don’t I?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck it,” Pansy came to a decision, “as long as it’s staying casual, I’m in.”</p><p>“Luna,” Daphne called out, “we have some questions for you.”</p><p>“Sure!” she flounced back to the table, and plopped herself back in her seat just as casually as she had at first, “what did you want to ask?”</p><p>“Our relationship isn’t, um, taking applications for additional members,” Daphne explained, “if you were to be intimate with Harry, it would just be as a casual thing, not the beginning of anything more meaningful?”</p><p>“Of course!” Luna smiled, “that’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m looking to get married to Harry, the timing for that would be all kinds of wrong, and relationships are – no offense – a bit restrictive, no?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, that is,” Luna explained, “if I like someone enough to sleep with them, that’s great, but I don’t see why that would need to lead to ‘dating’ or ‘living together’ or all that. Some of my friends are ones that I’d have sex with, others aren’t, and that just makes sense!”</p><p>“You don’t have feelings for Harry?” Pansy clarified.</p><p>“Oh, I love Harry, definitely,” Luna easily answered, causing the other two to sputter in confusion, “but not like, ‘get married and have babies’ love, you know? I love lots of my friends, but I don’t even sleep with everyone that I love, that would be weird!”</p><p>“Can you explain that a bit more?” Daphne felt like she was getting picked up by a whirlwind, the longer she spent talking to Luna.</p><p>“It’s like,” Luna waved her hands around, “I love Ginny, but I wouldn’t have sex with her, right? And I love Ron, too, but he’s committed to Astoria, so I couldn’t sleep with him! I love Padma too, and we’re both single, so we have sex sometimes! It’s different for every person, y’know?”</p><p>Daphne and Pansy shared a look.</p><p>
  <em>If Luna has the same no-strings-attached mentality that Padma does, that would explain a lot, even if the language she’s using makes no bloody sense…</em>
</p><p>“Don’t worry!” Luna seemed as if she could read their minds, “I’m not trying to become your girlfriend, or Harry’s girlfriend, or anything like that! I just think it’d be fun!”</p><p>Daphne stared at Pansy, wondering how her girlfriend would process this information.</p><p>“Eh,” Pansy shrugged, “sure, I’m down.”</p><p>“In that case,” Daphne pondered the idea for a while before she came to a decision, “as long as you stay in those boundaries we’ve set… I agree, I think it could be fun?”</p><p>“Yay!” Luna bounced up from her seat, and before either of the other women could react, planted a quick kiss on each of their lips, “I think I’ll see Harry tomorrow, in that case! I’ll write a letter to him explaining we talked about it, thanks!”</p><p>Luna stood up, and started to wander away from the table with no further explanation.</p><p>“Lovegood,” Pansy called out, “you’re still wearing a set of my lingerie.”</p><p>“Oh, right!” Luna retrieved her clothes from the changing room, and fussed about in her jacket pocket, “here! This should cover it!” she tossed a handful of Galleons to the table, surprising both Pansy and Daphne with the ease of her gesture, “I’m going back to my hotel room! I’m staying at the Hog’s Head Inn this time, so feel free to Firecall if you want! Ta!”</p><p>With that, she departed, leaving Pansy and Daphne in utter confusion.</p><p>“Was that the right call?” Daphne wondered, "do we even know what we just signed up for?"</p><p>“Oh, I absolutely want to show that girl a thing or two,” Pansy smiled a slightly-feral expression, “more like <em>she </em>doesn’t know what she just signed up for.”</p><p><em>I kind of doubt that, </em>Daphne mused, <em>I think she might be a bit more experienced that you’re expecting…</em></p><p>“I mean, like,” Daphne clarified, “we didn’t have long to talk about it, should we have agreed so quickly?”</p><p>“Eh,” Pansy shrugged, “honestly, as soon as she explained that she and Padma were hooking up, it all kind of made sense. We gave a hell of a show last time we shared a woman, Lovegood probably just wants some of that.”</p><p>“And you want ‘some of that’ too?” Daphne teased.</p><p>“She’s got a pretty killer arse, for being so small,” Pansy smirked, “like I said, I plan to put her through her paces.”</p><p>“Well, hopefully her and Harry have fun,” Daphne laughed, “Morgana knows, he could use the chance to unwind a bit.”</p><p>“That’s the other thing,” Pansy nodded, “we’re all way too tense lately. Having some no-strings fun with someone… not very serious, to say the least, well, it sounds like a good stress reliever to me.”</p><p>“Agreed.”</p><p>Part of Daphne still wondered what, exactly, this new possibility would bring, but the rest of her was kind of excited to make use of the “partially-open” provision their relationship held once again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember that little dangling thread from waaaaaay back in The World's a Stage?</p><p>Well, it just came time to tie that off ;^) </p><p>I want the next couple chapters to provide a bit of "the calm before the storm" breathing room before the political plotline comes to its climax imminently!</p><p>I realize that Luna might seem as if she appeared from nowhere, narratively, but this was absolutely intentional - there's no predicting that particular storm of chaos ;^) Let me know what you thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Metatarsal (Harry/Luna)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry fulfills a surprising, but long-established request</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>
  <em>The Night Before the Vote</em>
</p><p>Harry made his way into the not-quite-busy main floor of the Hog’s Head Inn, under disguise both magically and in terms of his outfit. He’d done pretty much all that he could to drum up every last vote that he could manage for the next day, but even still, the nervousness he felt about the upcoming vote ate at him.</p><p>It wasn’t really the right kind of mood for meeting up with one of his old friends, potentially for an intimate occasion… but at the same time, Harry often found that it was hard for him to stay in a sulk when he was around Luna.</p><p>He was still a little bit confused about why she’d shown up unannounced, but he supposed it made sense that she’d want to be present for the vote, even if she wasn’t typically involved in politics. The fact that she was so up-front about her intentions with him helped to alleviate some of Harry’s anxiety about the whole thing, though he wasn’t quite certain why his girlfriends had been so quick to agree with Luna’s request.</p><p>They’d been downright insistent that he go see Luna that night, in fact. Harry supposed that it made sense: they didn’t want him to stew at home alone, when Pansy was out with Blaise and Michel, and Daphne was supposed to be publicly seen in Susan’s company.</p><p>Harry sat down at a corner booth, and waited for Luna to come meet him. He’d arrived a little bit earlier than the appointment she’d set <em>(funny, that she’s the one setting a schedule now), </em>which gave him the time to mull over just what he actually wanted to do that evening.</p><p>It wasn’t that he <em>didn’t </em>find Luna to be attractive – she was downright gorgeous – more that Harry was a bit anxious about the possibility of sleeping with her without his girlfriends present. He was more comfortable with the quasi-open nature of their relationship after bringing Padma in had been a resounding success, but he was still a bit of a worrier by nature.</p><p><em>Who would’ve thought that Padma and Luna would be hooking up? </em>Harry had been somewhat surprised to hear that detail from Pansy, <em>I mean, I guess it makes some sense, they were both Ravenclaws and all, but I didn’t think that they ever hung out much back at Hogwarts. </em></p><p>Not that their school days had much impact on their current lives, as he understood very well <em>(I wouldn’t be dating Daphne based on who I hung out with at school, and <strong>definitely </strong>not Pansy…), </em>but it was one of those dynamics that made him go “oh, really?”, rather than “yeah, that makes sense”.</p><p>
  <em>Then again, expecting things to make sense when Luna’s involved is more than a bit foolish…</em>
</p><p>He knew that he was thinking in circles, and even went as far as to recognize that he was pondering these various thoughts mostly as a way of keeping his mind off politics.</p><p>“You look troubled, Harry, you’re absolutely surrounded by White-Bellied Triffles!” Harry jumped in his seat as Luna announced her presence, as he’d somehow failed to note her approaching him.</p><p><em>Moody would’ve had my hide for that lack of awareness, </em>Harry reminisced, as he wordlessly cast a couple privacy charms.</p><p>“Hey, Lu,” Harry smiled, “how’ve you been? How was Sweden?”</p><p>“Oh, it was very productive,” Luna nodded to herself and took a seat across from him, “there was one nasty little bit of trouble, when I ran into a nest of Dark-Crested Ophidians, but once I disposed of the Rook they’d been gathering around, that was all handled!”</p><p>“I’m glad to hear?” Harry couldn’t make heads nor tails – literally – of the various beasts that Luna often reported on, but it sounded like she enjoyed herself, at least.</p><p>“Yes, I imagine you would be,” Luna smiled sagely, “it was a rather happenstance discovery, you don’t usually see those outside of particularly dark parts of Magical Britain, but I think I put a stop to him before he became an invasive species.”</p><p><em>Him? </em>Harry shook his head. Of course Luna would catalogue the beings which only she ever seemed to encounter.</p><p>“Well, things here have been pretty good, for the most part,” Harry continued the conversation, as Luna was more than content to sit there in happy silence, “other than all the political shite, of course, but I’d rather not talk about that tonight.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to either,” Luna reached over to pat his hand reassuringly, “it’s awfully unfair, that you’re still carrying burdens like that, although I suppose these ones are a bit different than you got used to.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Harry!” Luna smiled, “I’m rather hoping that I’ll be able to distract you from all that for a bit, we can focus on more fun topics!”</p><p>“That sounds brilliant,” Harry flagged down a passing server <em>(a bit challenging, considering the properly-paranoid privacy charms) </em>and ordered himself an ale. Luna cheerfully requested some sort of cocktail that Harry had never heard of before.</p><p>“For example,” Luna spoke, “I’d very much like to continue where we left off, last time I saw you!”</p><p>“Right, er,” Harry murmured, “I mean… we could? I know you’ve talked to the girls already, and they made it very clear that they approve…”</p><p>“Of course!” Luna beamed, “I wouldn’t want to seem like I was sneaking around behind anyone’s back, you know. I think it’s very good that the three of you have that sort of arrangement, actually, it seems much less restrictive than most relationships do!”</p><p>“Not much for settling down, are you?” Harry smiled, knowing that his friend wouldn’t really want to stay in any place for too long.</p><p>“I probably will eventually,” Luna shrugged, “but for now, there’s so much of the world to see! I like the freedom of being able to go where I want, when I want, and not having to worry about how that impacts anyone else, you know?”</p><p>“Yeah, traveling is a pretty nice hobby,” Harry nodded, “fuck, I haven’t had a proper vacation in years. Maybe I’ll get around to that, once all this is handled.”</p><p>“I think that’s a fantastic idea!” Luna bounced excitedly in her seat, “you should go somewhere warm! Sweden was lovely and all, but it’s not a very summery place, and I wasn’t able to get much of a tan at all!”</p><p>“You favour the tropical destinations, eh?”</p><p>“Oh, winter is beautiful in its own way too,” he heard Luna kicking her feet idly under the table as she spoke, “so are spring and autumn! I like pretty much all of it, as long as there’s something fun to do. Like ice skating! Have you ever done that?”</p><p>“Can’t say I have,” Harry shook his head.</p><p>“I’ll have to take you some time!” Luna rested her chin in her hand, as she pondered something, “I think that Daphne would have a talent for it, but I can’t imagine Pansy would pick it up very quickly.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Yes, she’s really got a tinge of wintery-ness to her, doesn’t she?” Luna nodded once, “Daphne, that is. Pansy’s more summer, as much as that might seem to be opposite.”</p><p>“You seem like you got a good read on them, from a first impression alone,” Harry teased.</p><p>“They both have rather strong personalities, don’t they?” Luna smiled, “it’s not hard to figure people like that out. Not that that’s a bad thing, more the opposite! They seem very good for you, Harry.”</p><p>“They are,” Harry smiled in return, “I’m really lucky to have found them.”</p><p>“Mhmm!” Luna hummed, “and I’m rather lucky, in turn, that they’re willing to share you!”</p><p>“On that note,” Harry thought about how he wanted to phrase his question, “um, with what you have in mind tonight… why now?”</p><p>“How do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, that is, we’ve both been single at the same time before,” Harry explained, “and you never really seemed interested then?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be silly,” Luna giggled and patted his arm, “I told you already! You had an awful case of the Wrackspurts until recently, it wouldn’t’ve been much fun at all!”</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“They’re a sign of angst and frustration,” Luna rubbed his arm as if to say ‘oh, you poor dear, you should have known this already’, “I prefer sex to be fun, not necessarily a cathartic experience!”</p><p>Their drinks arrived, and Harry couldn’t help but goggle at the tall, swirly-strawed, literally <em>sparkling </em>beverage that Luna had ordered.</p><p>“That’s what this is about, in case you were worried,” Luna sipped her drink with a beatifically calm expression, “I’d just like to have some fun with you! I’m not trying to mix myself into your relationship, or anything like that – though Pansy and Daphne are both very pretty, I’d rather like to have sex with them as well – so you don’t need to worry, okay?”</p><p>“Okay?” this was a bit more direct from Luna than Harry was used to, but he found he appreciated it nonetheless.</p><p>“Yep!” Luna took another sip of her beverage, “so? Whatcha thinking?”</p><p>She fidgeted where she sat, and shortly after, Harry became aware of her foot rubbing against the inside of one of his calves.</p><p>“I mean, it kind of came from nowhere,” Harry admitted, “I hope you don’t take this as a lack of enthusiasm, or anything personal, I guess I just wasn’t really expecting it?”</p><p>“Now you’re being silly,” Luna’s foot trailed a little higher, and stopped around Harry’s knee, “I told you, oh, what was it, more than half a year ago, now, that I’d like to have sex with you!”</p><p>“Right, uh,” Harry was finding it increasingly difficult to focus, “I guess I had other things on my mind at the time, and I haven’t really thought much about your, er, offer since?”</p><p>“Well, I’m here now,” Luna emphasized that fact by rubbing her foot along Harry’s inner thigh, “so, what’s on your mind now?”</p><p>She leaned back in her seat, and her foot went even higher, tantalizingly close to Harry’s groin, but stopped just shy of it.</p><p>“I mean,” Harry answered, “I’m interested?”</p><p>“Oh, good!” Luna closed the final gap, and Harry had to stifle a groan as her foot ran over his member, “I was quite looking forward to having sex!”</p><p>“Should we…” Harry trailed off as she had basically started to give him a foot-job under the table, “lay down any, uhhh, ground rules? Expectations?”</p><p>“I rather expect that I’m a bit more adventurous than you are,” Luna giggled, “which is no shortcoming of yours! I’d be quite happy sticking to the more conventional sorts of sex, if you are!”</p><p><em>Right, “conventional”, </em>Harry thought, <em>that definitely describes what she’s doing right now…</em></p><p>“Yeah, uh, I’m not the best at coming up with fantasies,” Harry admitted, “it’s a bit of an issue of mine, honestly.”</p><p>“Don’t worry!” Luna rubbed the sole of her foot in a circular pattern against Harry’s rapidly-hardening manhood, “I’m quite content taking control! I don’t mean <em>domination, </em>really, but I’d like to think I’m fairly good at sex, so you can just relax and leave it to me!”</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone describe it like that,” Harry joked, and took a long swig of his ale to disguise the groan that he almost let free when Luna somehow managed to wrap her toes around his cock.</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Saying ‘good at sex’,” Harry clarified, “not that it’s a bad thing, just a very <em><span class="u">you</span></em> way to put it.”</p><p>“Oh, I can see that!” Luna shifted in her seat, and somehow managed to lift her other foot up to join its mate in rubbing against Harry’s now-completely-hard member, “I guess it would be more conventional to say ‘I’m a good shag’? Or perhaps ‘an excellent fuck’?”</p><p>Harry just nodded, as he was rapidly becoming unable to use his words properly.</p><p>“You have a very nice penis, by the way,” Luna smiled, “I’d like to put it in my mouth soon.” She wrapped her lips – and Harry swore he’d never noticed how pink and soft they looked – around the straw of her drink, and finished her beverage in one long pull.</p><p>“I’m going back to my room,” Luna then announced, “which is number 333, by the way. I’m going to get changed, so give me a few minutes? Oh, I suppose you’ll need a while to let your erection go away, won’t you?”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Harry nodded dumbly.</p><p>“I can’t wait!” Luna leaned across the table and pecked a quick kiss to his lips – somehow managing to do so without moving her feet, in an incredible demonstration of flexibility – then smoothly swung her legs off him, put her shoes back on without looking, and stood from the table.</p><p>Harry didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he watched her arse wiggle as she walked away.</p><p><em>You know what, </em>he decided, <em>this does seem like it’ll be fun.</em></p><hr/><p>After a few minutes that seemed to drag on forever, Harry dutifully climbed the stairs up to the third floor, and made his way towards Luna’s room. When he knocked softly on the entrance, he heard her call out <em>“come in! It’s open!”</em>, so he took a breath, then went inside Luna’s hotel room.</p><p>Once Harry had crossed the threshold, he dismissed the disguise charms that he had active <em>(not that Luna had even seemed to notice them)</em>.</p><p>“I’ll just be a moment!” Luna called out from around a corner inside her room, “lock the door, please?”</p><p>Harry turned to do so. When he turned back to face into her room, Luna was standing in the middle of the floor, wearing a dark purple robe which was easily sheer enough to display that she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath it.</p><p>“Come here, Harry,” she asked, and he wouldn’t dare argue with that request.  </p><p>Luna was truly petite – Harry suspected she was even shorter than Pansy – with a lithe build, but she still had very appealing curves despite her small stature. Her legs, in particular, caught Harry’s eye: they were proportionally long on her, nicely-shaped, and looked pleasantly soft to the touch.</p><p>Her most noticeable feature, as always, was her eyes. While Harry had grown used to Luna’s big, blue-grey hued gaze, he didn’t think that he’d ever seen them sparkling quite so much with a hint of something <em>mischievous. </em></p><p>When he reached her, Luna wrapped her arms around his neck, and went on tip-toes to reach up and kiss him. Harry closed his eyes, encircled the small of her back with one of his own arms, and returned her light, almost delicate kiss.</p><p>Her tongue darted along his lips, and Harry opened his mouth to allow their kisses to turn into a proper snogging session. As he’d kind of expected, her movements were quick, and almost seemed completely random, but he was more than willing to go along with whatever was in her mind.</p><p>“Take me to bed?” Luna separated from him, and looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes of hers, “it’s just back that way!”</p><p>Harry obeyed her request, and bent down to swoop her up into his arms. She felt practically weightless in his grasp, but that might have been because he was otherwise-occupied by the way she’d started to kiss him once again as soon as he’d lifted her up.</p><p>He walked deeper into her hotel room, and immediately spotted a large double bed, which he gently lowered Luna into. As he leaned down overtop of her, one of her small hands rested against his chest, telling him to pause.</p><p>“Lie down, Harry,” Luna spoke, “I told you I’d take care of you tonight, and I intend to keep that promise!”</p><p>“Oh, right,” Harry had honestly forgotten that, he was so wrapped up in this utterly mad, utterly brilliant scenario of shagging <em>Luna Lovegood. </em>He laid down beside her on the bed, and tried to reach out towards her, but Luna was already preoccupied with delicately unbuttoning his shirt. She hummed a little tune the entire time, and Harry was shirtless before he knew it. Luna didn’t stop there; her fingers danced over his belt next, and she proceeded to strip him quickly, efficiently, and entirely, managing to even pull his socks off at the same time as his pants.</p><p>When Luna stood at the end of the bed, she shrugged her own robe off, and Harry didn’t disguise the way he swept his gaze over her. For her frame, she had wide hips, which led into a short crop of silvery-blonde hair over her sex. She had a tattoo – in a swirling script that Harry didn’t recognize – between her navel and her pelvis.</p><p>As Harry’s eyes continued to climb up her body, he continued to realize just how gorgeous his friend truly was. Luna’s breasts weren’t large, but they looked just big enough to fill the palm of his hand, and sat high and perky on her chest. Her nipples were such a faint pink as to almost look invisible, but he didn’t linger on her chest; as before, Harry kept finding his attention drawn back towards her eyes.</p><p>“Do you like the way I look?” Luna asked, with a smile that suggested she knew he did.</p><p>“You’re gorgeous,” Harry answered honestly.</p><p>“Thanks, Harry!” Luna crawled onto the bed, and Harry leaned forward to meet her, “you’re very handsome, you know.”</p><p>They kissed again, and Luna’s soft fingers guided Harry to lie on his back once more, as she delicately took control of the situation.</p><p>“I’ll need you to help me get ready,” Luna spoke softly, “before we actually have sex. Would you like to use your mouth on me?”</p><p>“I’d love to,” Harry nodded eagerly.</p><p>“Good! I was hoping you would!”</p><p>Without any further discussion, Luna continued to crawl upwards, until she swung one of her smooth legs over his shoulder, and – without even the slightest hint of hesitation – planted her pussy directly on Harry’s mouth. He gave her a long, slow lick from the bottom of her slit up to her clit, and found that (in a very “Luna” way) she tasted reminiscent of a potion, in a vague way.</p><p>
  <em>Almost reminds me of when I drank Felix Felicis…</em>
</p><p>“That’s very nice, Harry,” Luna reached down to run her fingers through his hair, and Harry was happy to devote himself to his task. He began to increase his pace slowly, but steadily, lavishing his tongue all over her as she continued to coo and whisper phrases of encouragement.</p><p>He couldn’t angle his arms to use his fingers easily from the position they were in, one where Luna faced him as she straddled his face, but it didn’t seem as if Luna had any complaints; Harry was entranced by the way her chest had begun to blush slightly, her breaths coming faster and faster as he began to lap directly at her clit.</p><p>“Would you like me to help you get ready, too?” Luna asked.</p><p>“Mmmyeah,” Harry mumbled against her pussy, “d’you want to change positions?”</p><p>“Oh, we don’t have to move,” Luna shifted a bit, moving from a kneeling position to one where her feet were planted above his head, her arse resting against his chest, “would you hold my hips in place?”</p><p>“Mm,” Harry grabbed her arse, partly to obey her request, and partly so he could squeeze it in his palms. While Luna definitely had a small arse, as suited her frame, there was a surprising amount of bubbliness to it, and Harry absolutely intended to take advantage of the opportunity.</p><p>“There we go,” Luna announced, and then she arched her back suddenly, craning her head backwards until, somehow, she managed to contort herself into a position where she could reach Harry’s cock.</p><p><em>Wow, </em>Harry thought, <em>she’s super flexible. </em></p><p>They fell into something vaguely reminiscent of a sixty-nine, except with Luna’s back facing Harry’s chest <em>– wonder what this is even called? A sixty-six? </em>He mused – as Luna managed to pull Harry’s mostly-hard member into her mouth using her lips alone. If Harry wasn’t already amazed at the unconventional position that he found himself in, then the way that Luna smoothly swallowed his entire length in one motion (without even a hint of gagging) practically blew his mind.</p><p>Harry squeezed her arse more intently, and pulled her hips a bit tighter against his mouth. He did his best to give her as much pleasure as he could, even while he was as distracted as he was, and before long, Luna had started to make muffled moans around his cock.</p><p>“Mmm,” Luna lifted her head free in another display of her sinuous flexibility, “I was right. I do enjoy sucking on your penis. I think I’m ready now, would you like to have sex?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Harry groaned as she reached back to tug his cock for emphasis, “yeah, I’d love to. Hmm, wait a sec, are you on the potion? Should I use a sheath charm?”</p><p>“Oh, no need to worry about that,” Luna smiled with a faint hint of sadness, “I’m sterile, you see. But that’s okay! It just means there’s no risk of pregnancy when you ejaculate inside me.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lu, I didn’t know,” Harry felt like he’d killed the mood, but Luna was unstoppable, as she sat back up to a more conventional position, before she started to knee-walk backwards down his torso.</p><p>“That’s okay!” Luna smiled a genuine smile that time, “I figure I’ll adopt when the time is right! Anyways, on to more entertaining matters…”</p><p>Luna still had her delicate fingers wrapped around his manhood, and it didn’t take her long to line him up with her entrance. With how small she was, Harry was expecting to take it slow at first, but – <em>should’ve known better than to try and predict Luna – </em>she instead chose to sit down on his cock <em>hard</em>, sheathing his entire length inside of her in one quick movement.</p><p>“Oh, wow,” Luna giggled, “you’re rather large. That feels nice!”</p><p>“You feel amazing,” Harry told her.</p><p>He had a hard time putting it into words, but Harry found that she simply felt <em>elastic, </em>somehow. She was tight around him, but as she writhed and wiggled on top of his hips, every movement inside her felt smooth.  </p><p>Luna started to rock her hips back and forth at a steady, but not hurried pace, and Harry contented himself just laying back and letting her take charge, his hands idly resting at her hips. She was a gorgeous sight on top of him; her breasts jiggled with her movements, and Luna made lots of little gasps and <em>“oohs” </em>as she did what she pleased.</p><p>Harry tried to lean upwards to take one of her nipples into his mouth, but Luna just gently guided him back into a laying position.</p><p>“I told you I’d take care of you,” she smiled, then tilted forwards, and thrust her chest out so that Harry could, indeed, suck on her tits, “but if you insist…”</p><p>Luna shuffled her legs forwards, so that rather than straddling his hips, she crouched over his cock, her feet up at Harry’s sides.</p><p>“Hold my bottom, please?” she asked sweetly, “it helps with leverage in this position!”</p><p>Harry was all too happy to reach out and grope her arse, which was very prominently presented by her stance. True to her word, Luna started to bounce up and down, and every time she drove herself down on him, Harry couldn’t help but let out a groan.</p><p><em>She’s taking me so deep, </em>he thought, <em>but she’s handling it like a champ.</em></p><p>“Oooh,” Luna moaned, as if she’d somehow overheard his thoughts, “that’s very nice, Harry. You’re penetrating me quite deeply.”</p><p>“It feels great,” Harry confirmed.</p><p>“Sit up a little bit, please?”</p><p>Harry shuffled around to sit upright without releasing his grip on Luna’s arse, which eventually brought him face-to-face with her. She leaned in and kissed him, then started to <em>really </em>ride him; she slammed her hips down hard enough on his cock that every time she bottomed out, an audible <em>smack </em>echoed through her hotel room.</p><p>She wrapped her arms around his neck, and somehow managed to drive herself down even <em>harder</em>. Harry was fairly certain that he’d never managed to thrust this hard under his own power, but the tiny Luna Lovegood was doing her best to absolutely shag his brains out.</p><p>Luna leaned in and kissed the outside of his ear, then started to plant light, almost feathery kisses along one side of his neck. The gentleness of her oral ministrations combined with the shocking intensity that she was fucking him with was a juxtaposition that really, <em>really </em>worked for Harry, and before long, he started to feel the telltale warmth of an orgasm coiling in his belly.</p><p>“I’m starting to get close, Lu,” Harry warned.</p><p>“Hold out a bit longer, Harry,” Luna dreamily replied, her tone even and level as if she wasn’t slamming her hips against his hard enough that he feared for the safety of her bed underneath them, “I’m almost ready to climax as well!”</p><p>“Luna,” Harry groaned, “God…”</p><p>She didn’t relent for a moment, as she lifted and dropped herself onto his cock at a frenetic pace.</p><p>“Don’t orgasm yet, Harry,” she whispered into his ear, “just a few moments more…”</p><p>It took every ounce of Harry’s self control to have held out that long, and he clenched Luna’s arse tightly, her pert bottom crushed in his hands as he breathed deeply, trying his best to hold out.</p><p>“Almost,” she spoke, and then nipped at his neck.</p><p><em>Fuck, she’s teasing me, </em>he realized, <em>I can’t hold out against this.</em></p><p>“Do you want to climax, Harry?” Luna asked, and suddenly stopped her motions just as he was about to cum, his cock fully hilted inside of her, “I’d like to make you feel good, you know.”</p><p>“I’m… really, really fucking close,” Harry gasped.</p><p>“Oh, good,” she smiled, and then started to gyrate her hips in tiny circles, “I want you to cum for me now, Harry.”</p><p>He lost control entirely, and released himself with a loud groan. All the while, Luna’s motions grew faster and faster, as she quite literally rode out his climax on top of him. Harry’s world practically spun around him, as a lightning bolt of pleasure shot up his spine, and he came <em>hard</em>, no doubt filling Luna to the brim.</p><p>“Good!” she hummed, then surprised him one last time in the evening: showing no mercy to his sensitivity post-orgasm, she started to saw her hips back and forth at an incredible pace, her tits bouncing in his face the whole time, “because… I’m… ooohhhhh.”</p><p>She let loose a long, trilling moan, and Harry gasped and felt an aftershock of his orgasm rip through him, as her pussy clenched and spasmed around his still-hard cock.</p><p>“Mmm,” Luna reviewed, and lifted herself free of him, “that was very nice! You’re a rather good shag too, Harry.”</p><p>“I barely even did anything,” Harry chuckled, “but, yeah, that was a lot of fun.”</p><p>“You did what I wanted you to,” Luna smiled, “which was perfect! Well done!”</p><p>“Thanks, Lu,” Harry could only shake his head amusedly; her pillow-talk persona was exactly the same as she always was, just like he’d expected.</p><p>Luna crawled into his side, as Harry panted for breath, somehow exhausted despite the fact that he hadn’t been the one exerting himself at all. He lazily slung an arm around her shoulders, and Luna nuzzled against his chest as she got comfortable.</p><p>“You’ll want to go home at some point,” Luna told him, “you have a big day tomorrow, after all. I think we should stay like this, for a little while, at least, though.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “for a little while.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been in the making ever since waaay back in The World's a Stage; even though it's not the most momentous occasion, I wanted a slice of fluff just before the rest of an overarching plot comes to a head!</p><p>When it comes to Luna's time with the trio as a unit, I'm honestly leaning towards writing that as a spin-off story at this point, as it's going to be a pure smutfest without even the meager hints at future plot developments that this chapter contained. I'd be open to hearing feedback on this, but the way I'm leaning right now is that this chapter is already kind of disconnected from the rest of this installment (by design), and including a second chapter of purely Luna-focused porn would be too disjointed (not by design)...</p><p>Doing it this way will also allow me to barrel through the remaining chapters a bit faster without getting sidetracked; I'm hoping that the final third of this installment is going to be smooth sailing, from what I've already planned out for it!</p><p>Let me know what you think, either about this chapter, or the "leave it to a spin-off" idea!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Nervous System</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The vote on Cyrus's final bill proceeds</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>He sat on a bench a few minutes away from the Ministry, staring at the sky and smoking a cigarette. Though he’d mostly dropped the habit at this point, it felt appropriate at the time, a means to calm his jangled nerves just a little.</p><p>The sky was mostly grey, though the sun made a valiant effort to break through the clouds at points. There wasn’t any rain, but the general ambiance matched Harry’s mood fairly well; certainly not cheerful or optimistic, but not having lost all hope just quite yet.</p><p><em>It’ll be a damn close one, </em>Harry thought. He’d spent most of the last week drumming up as many <em>“nay”</em> votes as he could manage, but he wasn’t convinced it’d be enough. According to the numbers that Daphne and Hermione had crunched, the traditionalist faction likely held a slim majority, if the neutral votes were presumed to split down the middle.</p><p>Harry was hoping that his efforts had done enough to swing that split in their favour, but he knew that Wizarding society as a whole couldn’t be counted on to do the sane or sensible thing. Undoubtedly, there would be those voting against their own best interests later that day, whether it was due to a willingness to be mislead, or sheer bloody-minded spite.</p><p>He was at the point where he just wanted to get it over with.</p><p><em>Life was much more pleasant before I got mixed up in politics, </em>he mused, <em>hopefully it’ll be just as nice once I deal with this, get it off my plate for good. </em></p><p>Unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could ignore entirely, considering the numerous ways that Cyrus’s “Rights and Responsibilities” bill would impact Harry’s life directly. If the Greengrass patriarch had his way, then Harry’s life would essentially be put into the hands of the Wizengamot, from how he would be forced to conduct himself, down to who he’d be obligated to marry.</p><p><em>Maybe we should just move to France, </em>Harry wondered, <em>sometimes it feels as if I’ve already done enough for Magical Britain.</em></p><p>As much as the thought was tempting, Harry knew that he couldn’t abandon the other people who’d be so negatively impacted by the possible passage of this bill; those like Sue, or (though he wasn’t quite as close with him) Blaise, who’d done nothing wrong except that they’d been born into contentious times.</p><p><em>Story of my bloody life, that, </em>Harry grumbled, and tossed his cigarette to the ground. He stamped it out with his heel, patted his hands on his slacks <em>(part of a traditional Wizarding robes set), </em>then reluctantly stood from his seat.</p><p>He was still early, all things considered, but Harry supposed that it was unlikely he’d come to any grand realizations on how to accomplish the goal he had in mind, no way to avoid paying the price he’d already accepted he’d have to settle.</p><p>Harry trudged towards the Ministry doors, and he had to admit that there was something he could appreciate about the way his cloak billowed and swept around him as he moved. He hoped that it made him look “imposing”, rather than as if he were just having a sulk.</p><p>As he made his way through the unfortunately-familiar halls, towards the chambers of the Wizengamot, Harry just barely resisted the urge to mutter under his breath the entire way. Unlike many of the other life-or-death adventures he’d had in his life, this whole process had been long, drawn out very nearly to the point of exhaustion, and he was simply <em>tired </em>of it.</p><p>When he threw the doors open and stepped inside, Harry noted that he was one of the very first arrivals. A few Heads of minor Houses were scattered around the gallery (possessing only a single vote each, unlike most of the hereditary seats), and he wondered if he should make one final effort to sway their minds.</p><p>He rejected the idea, and instead made his way up to his seat. Harry wished that he could have brought Daphne with him today – or even Hermione – but he knew that he had to portray himself as a figure of singular status and import; not just the head of a coalition, but practically a voting bloc in and of himself.</p><p><em>Not even that far off the mark, </em>he grumbled in his thoughts, <em>still, hope it doesn’t come to that…</em></p><p>As the hour of the vote approached, the Wizengamot chambers steadily filled with all the now-familiar faces that Harry had come to know. Luna waved to him when she entered to take her seat as Lady Lovegood, and Harry couldn’t help but smile as he waved back.</p><p>His time with her the night before had come as a surprise, but definitely a pleasant one (unlike so many of the other surprises in his life). For those precious few hours, Harry had actually been able to forget about politics, about his role as <em>Lord Potter-Black, </em>instead dedicating his entire being to <em>much </em>more pleasurable pursuits.</p><p>Sadly, those sorts of enjoyable activities were the furthest thing from his mind as he slumped into his seat. All Harry could focus on was his nigh-obsessive habit of scanning the crowd, identifying the various Lords, Ladies, and Heads of Houses, and making a mental tally of their likely votes as he went.</p><p><em>It’s too bad that Theo stepped down from being Lord Nott, </em>Harry groused, <em>his votes would sure come in handy right now.</em></p><p>Then again, the traditionalists weren’t entirely unaffected by absences; Lady Rowle was missing from the vote, as she was apparently in poor health, suffering from some kind of mysterious malady. Harry had never actually met the woman, but if she was anything like the other Rowles whom he’d had the misfortune to encounter, he wasn’t overly choked-up over her illness.</p><p>The minutes dragged on like hours as everyone entered and made their way to their seats, before <em>finally, </em>Cyrus Greengrass stood at his podium, cleared his throat <em>(and probably applied a Sonorous charm…), </em>and began the opening speech.</p><p>“My Lords and Ladies,” Cyrus boomed, “Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot. Today is a most momentous occasion, one that will undoubtedly mark the future of our society for years to come. As you all know, some among our number are here to represent the legacy of their bloodlines, while others serve at the discretion of the Wizarding public.”</p><p><em>This all sounds familiar, </em>Harry thought, <em>not the worst opening to a speech, though, have to give him that. </em></p><p>“With the powers afforded to some of our members,” Cyrus continued, “it is only logical that we also implement a system of balances on these powers; to ensure that the inheritors of noble legacies continue to work for a better future for Wizardkind, rather than running the risk of them wielding their status irresponsibly.”</p><p><em>That’d be me, </em>Harry was tempted to roll his eyes, <em>all about wielding my power irresponsibly…</em></p><p>“It is these issues which my proposed legislation seeks to address,” Cyrus concluded, “and I trust that all of you will be measured and considerate in your votes, putting aside any petty squabbles or disagreements as we work towards a better future. Thank you, my Lords and Ladies. This session of the Wizengamot is now officially begun,” he slammed his gavel against his stand.</p><p>“As the only tabled item,” Cyrus’s voice dropped to less ‘speech-giving’ levels of volume, “the vote on the Bill Governing Rights and Responsibilities of Noble Heirs shall now begin, by traditional Wizengamot procedure. Mister Gage, the floor is yours.”</p><p>
  <em>Right, the votes go in ascending order, from elected seats to inherited ones, and from newest (and therefore least powerful) to oldest Houses. The seats with the most votes come after the ones with fewest.</em>
</p><p><em>It’ll be ages before I even get to cast my vote, </em>Harry would, in fact, be last in line, <em>which makes all of this a bit of a waste of time. </em></p><p>“On the Bill Governing Rights and Responsibilities of Noble Heirs,” Mr. Gage stood to speak, “I vote <em>Aye</em>!”</p><p>
  <em>Not surprising; they’ve always been pretty friendly to traditionalist causes, despite being mixed-blood.</em>
</p><p>As a general rule, the next few votes proceeded basically exactly as Hermione and Daphne had predicted; the newer elected seats voted ‘nay’, while older families (even if less powerful ones) voted ‘aye’.</p><p>By the time that the elected seats had concluded their vote, the majority had voted against the bill, but Harry knew it was premature to be overly-encouraged by these results; in some cases, a single House might hold as many votes as the greater portion of the elected seats put together.</p><p>As expected, Houses Abbott and MacDougal voted nay, offset by the subsequent ayes from Fudge and Perrot. The whole exercise was, ironically, an effective demonstration for Cyrus’s claimed concerns about the potential for someone holding multiple Lordships to abuse their power: even ancient Houses like MacDougal held only a fraction of the votes compared to those seen as more Ancient, more Noble.</p><p>Harry recalled Ron’s words about the Wizengamot mostly serving as something akin to an “old boys’ club”, where the same families which traditionally held power went around elevating each others’ statuses in order to ensure that they <em>maintained </em>their hold on power.</p><p>
  <em>Well, guess I’ll have to do something about that…</em>
</p><p>He still struggled to get over the sheer stubbornness involved in coming up with this set of legislation: if it passed, and a more open-minded generation took hold of some of these houses in the future, the next generations of Purebloods might find their marriages and lives under public domain, which Harry couldn’t imagine <em>anyone </em>wanted.</p><p>Harry obediently marked down every vote, though it was mostly as a means of passing his time. The occasional Lord or Lady chose to give a short speech before casting their vote, but for the most part, everything was split solidly down the “reformist” or “traditionalist” lines.</p><p>“Lady Zabini has the floor,” Cyrus announced.</p><p>Harry sat up a bit, as his interest was more piqued by how this particular Head of House would cast her vote. He still felt the urge to punish her, somehow, for the ploy that she’d attempted along with Lord Parkinson, but Pansy had already dealt with that, and from what Harry had understood, it was unlikely that there’d be any considerable fallout resulting from dismantling Adrienne’s scheme.</p><p>“It is important, surely,” Lady Zabini spoke, “to guide the next generations properly, to ensure that they remain cognizant of the struggles and sacrifices their ancestors have gone through in order to better the world they inhabit,” she looked around the room, and frowned, as if she didn’t like what she saw, “but to do so is the responsibility of a parent, not of… <em>this</em>,” she gestured vaguely at the Wizengamot as a whole, “putting our children’s lives at the hands of a <em>vote </em>is intolerable. I vote Nay.”</p><p><em>Huh, </em>Harry was genuinely surprised to see Adrienne Zabini behaving rationally, rather than vindictively, <em>that’ll help us!</em></p><p>He thumbed idly at the pair of rings on his right hand. Harry wore the signets of both Houses Potter and Black on this occasion, a suitably “lordly” pair of accessories for the role he had to play. The Potter ring sat on his index finger, while the Black one adorned his pinkie. The Potter ring was set with a single, radiant ruby, while the Black ring glittered with a – frankly, kind of ridiculous – number of gems.  </p><p>The gesture helped remind him why it was that he was here that day, more than anything that might fuck with his own life, he had to – once again – step up so that others wouldn’t suffer for no good reason.</p><p>As much as it had been to their benefit when Lady Zabini had unexpectedly joined their side, the reformists were struck a blow when the current Lord Slughorn – <em>Horace’s second cousin, or something, </em>if Harry remembered right – wound up voting ‘aye’.</p><p>Harry grit his teeth and kept track of the votes: as of the roughly halfway mark, it was very nearly split, which, once again, didn’t really mean that much until the real movers and shakers of the Wizengamot started casting their votes.</p><p>“It can be challenging, being a parent,” Lord Bulstrode’s voice was impossible to ignore when he chose to give a speech before casting his own vote, “at times, I’ll admit, I wished for some sort of legal measures that I could take. However… putting into law these sorts of restrictions? To take away the choice of whom someone can marry? I can’t abide by this. I vote Nay.”</p><p><em>That’s another win, </em>Harry felt the slightest bloom of optimism beginning to take root, <em>thanks, Daphne. </em></p><p>By his count, that was now two ‘nay’ votes – from Noble houses, both – which could be directly attributed to his girlfriends; Harry wasn’t sure if his own efforts had accomplished anything near that significant.</p><p>The vote continued, in a back-and-forth exchange of <em>“Aye!” </em>and “<em>Nay”, </em>until some of the Most Ancient, or Most Noble houses began to take the stand. As Harry had feared, many of these more traditional sorts of Lords continued to fulfill the impression he had of them, and the “Aye” votes began to rack up steadily.</p><p><em>Well, I guess we’ll have to start looking into moving to France, </em>Harry realized they were quickly running out of options, <em>or somewhere warmer, even. Italy? Spain? Definitely not anywhere more central, too many madmen running around Germany right now…</em></p><p>“I’ve pondered this decision for a while,” the practised voice of Lord Carrow spoke, “and at the end of the day, it was my conscience which provided the answer to me. I cannot, in good faith, leave my daughters’ futures up to a matter of public debate, not when they have lives of their own they would lead. I vote Nay.”</p><p><em>Thanks, Artaxes, </em>Harry relaxed a little bit, <em>that cuts the margin down to more manageable levels. </em></p><p>There were only a few votes remaining by that point, and Harry’s heart began to hammer in his chest. If he were lucky, the vote would fail to pass through entirely conventional means, and his final ploy would be left as just an idea, rather than something that would shake up his future in itself.</p><p>He thumbed the rings on his finger again, and felt the weight of a third object sitting in the pocket of his dress robes. It felt almost ominously heavy, which he could only suppose made sense in a way.</p><p><em>Sixty to Fifty-Four, </em>Harry counted as votes rolled in, <em>Sixty to Fifty-Nine, Sixty to Sixty-Five...</em></p><p>It wasn’t looking good.</p><p>Finally, it was time for Cyrus himself to take the stand. It seemed like somewhat of a formality at this point; the vote currently stood at seventy-three <em>‘Aye’ </em>to sixty-two ‘<em>Nay</em>’, so Cyrus’s eight votes (as Lord of a Most Ancient, Most Noble House, plus one for his title as Chief Warlock) would put the vote beyond the reach of Harry’s cumulative <em>thirteen </em>votes, as ridiculous as that number felt.</p><p>“My Lords and Ladies,” Cyrus spoke, a proud grin on his face, “I am pleased to see that you have such confidence in my proposal. I truly believe that this will be the best for our people, for Magical Britain as a whole. I understand that some of you still have concerns about the restrictions and limitations that you will now face, but I wish to make it known, my door is always open to discuss these sorts of matters.”</p><p>“It is with great consideration that these laws have been formulated,” Cyrus continued, “a process which would not have been possible, were it not for your participation in this most august tradition of our people. With equal consideration, and no small amount of pride, at the wisdom you all have demonstrated, it is my pleasure to vote Aye.”</p><p><em>Well, that’s it, </em>Harry’s thumb flicked against his rings one last time, <em>no other options left.</em></p><p>“Lord Potter-Black,” Cyrus announced, “with the final vote in this session, the floor is yours.”</p><p>In theory, this was an opportunity for Harry to see which way the wind was blowing, to throw his lot in and vote along with Cyrus, and solidify the oft-speculated “Greengrass-Potter-Black alliance” from a convenient fiction into an uncomfortable fact.</p><p><em>Sod which way the wind blows, </em>Harry thought, <em>time to shift it. </em></p><p>“As Lord of Houses Potter and Black,” Harry stood from his seat, “I vote Nay.”</p><p>A few ripples of conversation spread through the gallery, as Harry thoroughly scuttled the nascent “alliance” that Cyrus had undoubtedly been hoping for.</p><p>“Very well,” Cyrus banged his gavel against his stand, “then, with a vote of eighty-one ‘Aye’ to seventy-five ‘Nay’, the Bill Governing Rights and Responsibilities of Noble Heirs has been passed into law; henceforth, effective immediately, it shall-“</p><p>“Chief Warlock!” Harry called out, interrupting his triumphant speech.</p><p>“Lord Potter-Black.” Cyrus didn’t look impressed, though one of his eyebrows steadily crept up his face in curiosity, as he no doubt wondered what it was that Harry was up to.</p><p>“I was not finished, if you’d please,” Harry explained, but refused to go into any more detail.</p><p>He thrust his hand into the pocket of his robes, and fidgeted the item contained within into place on his middle finger.</p><p>“The floor remains Lord Potter-Black’s,” Cyrus sighed, as he undoubtedly tried and failed to find a reason to end the vote there, before Harry was technically finished, “please, do continue.”</p><p>“As I said,” Harry let a wolfish grin break over his features, “as Lord of Houses Potter and Black, I vote Nay. Furthermore!” he pulled his hand free of his robes with a flourish, and pressed the ring that he’d received last week against his lectern.</p><p>The surface in front of him sparked and flared to life as the magic within his ring connected to his seat at the Wizengamot.</p><p>“As Earl Peverell,” Harry let his voice boom out, no <em>Sonorous </em>charm necessary, “I vote Nay!”</p><p>The muttered conversation earlier became an uproar, as many of the Lords and Ladies, Witches and Wizards broke into disarray at his proclamation.</p><p><em>Doesn’t matter what they think, </em>Harry thought smugly, <em>the magic of the Wizengamot recognized my claim as valid. </em></p><p>Furthermore, as a Most Ancient <em>and </em>Most Noble House, his claim to the Peverell line granted him an additional <em>seven </em>votes. One more than was required.</p><p>“Order!” Cyrus called out, “order!” he slammed his gavel down repeatedly.</p><p>“The ancient magics and wards of the Wizengamot have recognized Earl Peverell’s claim,” Cyrus cried out, with resignation heavy in his voice, “which requires a recanting of the results previously announced. By a total of eighty-two ‘Nay’ to eighty-one ‘Aye’, the bill has been defeated.”</p><p><em>Fuck, </em>Harry thumbed at the third ring now sitting on his fingers, <em>I hope that this was worth it.</em></p><p>He knew he’d just shaken the foundations of Wizarding society, but more than that, he’d placed even more of a focus on himself as a politician. While the battle was won, Harry feared for what this choice might mean for his future.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little bit briefer than usual, but this felt like the right point to cut things off.</p><p>Up next will be the fallout of this decision, as well as some snippets of celebrations, now that our heroes have defeated this bill once and for all!</p><p>I'm looking forward to seeing the reactions to Harry's gambit - it may have consequences he wasn't quite considering ;^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Heart (Daphne/Pansy/Harry)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The trio navigate the immediate reaction to Harry's latest move, then go forward with a change in their relationship</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Harry</span>
</p><p>Harry exhaled a long breath as he stood outside his front door.</p><p>
  <em>It’s finally over.</em>
</p><p>He knew that the traditionalists wouldn’t lie down quite so easily as he’d hoped, but his display of power earlier in the day had – hopefully – been sufficient to back them off of anything particularly foolish for a while.</p><p>Harry <em>also </em>knew that claiming House Peverell would have consequences; he didn’t think that he was going to be able to maintain his status as the single most powerful wizard in politics without a fight, but he figured (and hoped) that he could deal with those struggles, whatever they might look like, when they actually popped up.</p><p>He opened the door, and stepped inside. Harry wasn’t immediately greeted by Pansy and Daphne, which he figured probably wasn’t the <em>best </em>sign, but he wasn’t expecting things to go too badly. He hoped.</p><p>“I’m home!” he called out.</p><p>“We’re in the lounge,” Daphne answered.</p><p>When Harry made his way in there, he found both of his girlfriends seated on the couch together. Pansy had her arms folded across her chest, while Daphne was sitting in a manner closer to “lounging”; the contrast between the two was somewhat surprising.</p><p>“Oh, look, Daph,” Pansy drawled, “it’s Lord fucking Peverell.”</p><p>“Heh,” Harry did his best to shrug nonchalantly, “yeah, I guess so.”</p><p>“Sitting on that one for a while, were you?” Pansy grumped, “would’ve been awfully less stressful if we happened to know that you had another fucking House in your back pocket, I think.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure you had your reasons,” Daphne hummed, “whether or not I might agree with them, that’s another matter.”</p><p>“For what it’s worth,” Harry flopped into a chair across from them, “I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to the point where I’d have to claim another House, y’know.”</p><p>“No?” Daphne asked.</p><p>“Well,” Harry explained, “it’s not like I really mean to become the King of all Wizards for real, and I know I’ve put a target on my back by collecting that many votes together… but I figure that the fallout won’t be as bad as if that last bill passed.”</p><p>“And what, dear, foolish man, are you expecting for ‘fallout’?” Pansy made a show of inspecting her nails while she asked the question.</p><p>“Well,” Harry answered, “I think that there’s probably going to be a bill in my future where they try to limit the number of Houses anyone can hold at one time, but I don’t particularly mind that. I’ll probably have to wine and dine with some pretty annoying sorts, like Daphne’s dad, in order to reassure the traditionalists that I’m not trying to take over the whole Wizengamot full-time.”</p><p>“I think you’re forgetting something, Harry,” Daphne smiled in a bemused way, “do recall that there have been other bills passed recently.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Harry wasn’t sure what she was quite getting at, “I mean, I guess it might make inheritance a bit tricky down the road, but we’ve got some time to worry about that, right? Don’t get me wrong, I mean, yeah, one day I’d like to marry both of you, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.”</p><p>“The whole ‘both of you’ part is the problem, I’m afraid,” Daphne sighed, “by claiming a third house, now you’ve mandated yourself to take a third <em>wife.</em>”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry realized, “bollocks.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Pansy agreed with him, “after all we just went through with public displays and all that, now we’re going to have to find another woman to join us more permanently, whatever that means.”</p><p>“I wonder…” Daphne added, “is that why Luna returned when she did?”</p><p>“No, I really don’t think so,” Harry shook off that possibility immediately, “she’s made it rather clear that marriage isn’t exactly a priority for her, I doubt that she’d have her eyes on me like that.”</p><p>Pansy grumbled something indistinct, which prompted Daphne to roll her eyes.</p><p>“What was that, Pans?” Harry asked.</p><p>“I said,” Pansy spoke more clearly, “I can think of a woman or two who’s got their eyes on you <em>like that</em>, and you’ve just opened the door for them, yeah?”</p><p>“I’m not looking for anyone else,” Harry explained himself, “and, frankly, I forgot that this was, uh, a possibility… I was more focused on the immediate future, I guess.”</p><p>“We know that you weren’t scheming behind our backs to find yourself another lover,” Daphne reassured, “but we <em>might </em>have avoided this particular complication if you’d come to us before claiming House Peverell, you know.”</p><p>“I was really, really hoping I wouldn’t have to,” Harry reiterated, “it’s just… well, magically, I already was. If someone performed some sort of lineage-tracing spell on me, I wouldn’t have had a choice but to claim the seat, I figured it was better this way.”</p><p>“Magically?” Pansy asked, “how’s that?”</p><p>“Well, you remember what I talked about before, about the Deathly Hallows?”</p><p>“Hard to forget,” Daphne patted the couch beside her, “come sit over here while you explain, silly. We’re not angry with you, we’re just confused.”</p><p>“Right!” Harry scurried across the room to the couch, “so, uh, because I’m ‘Master of Death’ and all, <em>and </em>I’m a direct descendant of the Peverells, I guess that automatically made me the latest Lord of House Peverell.”</p><p>“Isn’t it ‘Earl’?” Pansy clarified.</p><p>“Technically, yeah,” Harry shrugged, “it’s an older house than most, and the old Peverells had all kinds of titles under their belts. I think I’d still be called ‘Lord Peverell’ in anything but the most official business… but, anyway, I’m getting off topic.”</p><p>“Little bit,” Daphne teased.</p><p>“When I visited Gringotts, yeah?” Harry continued, “part of it was that I was planning on hiring them to trace my bloodlines, to make sure that I actually had a claim, and I wasn’t just guessing that I did. Turns out, they already did that trace, and they were keeping it under wraps as a favour to me.”</p><p>“The Goblins did you a favour?” Pansy whistled, “what do you owe them in return?”</p><p>“Nothing to worry about,” Harry waved it off, “but, yeah. They said it was ‘by blood and deed’ that I could claim this seat, so I’m guessing there was some old family magic put in place that anyone with the right heritage and magical skills could claim Peverell lineage, regardless of their birth family.”</p><p>“There’s been a few houses with magic like that over the years,” Daphne hummed, “allowing succession to skip a generation or two in the case that a specific heir only has daughters. House Lovegood was one, funnily enough.”</p><p>“Right, so,” Harry shrugged, “maybe it won’t actually be as big a deal as we’re thinking of? I’m not sure that my children would count as Peverells, or if they’d have to prove themselves magically somehow – let’s pray that doesn’t come up again – before it would apply to them.”</p><p>“I doubt it’s that easy,” Pansy argued, “and whether or not you’re actually able to pass the line on, <em>you’re </em>still the latest Peverell, so you’ll need to marry someone for that.”</p><p>“Well, if it comes to it,” Harry frowned, “maybe I can arrange a more political sort of marriage. Someone like Sue’s in a tricky spot with her own title, for example?”</p><p>Pansy snorted loudly, and Daphne’s expression flickered between annoyance and something that looked an awful lot like wistfulness.</p><p>“There’s no way you’d be able to keep things political,” Pansy sighed, “I guess that I should’ve seen this coming, way back when I first suggested an open-ish relationship, that we might eventually need to expand it a bit.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Daphne argued, “it could be more like… an additional branch, rather than a new part of the roots we’ve laid down.”</p><p>“I’m not sure if there’s an appropriate horticultural metaphor,” Harry teased, “but I think I see what you mean… I insist, though, I’m really not planning on finding someone new. You two are amazing, and I’m more than content with both of you in my life.”</p><p>“Never does anything ‘small’, does he?” Pansy turned to Daphne.</p><p>“No, he doesn’t. Really, we should have foreseen this possibility…” Daphne shook her head and smiled, “I do think, however it winds up happening, we can find a way to make it work out, though.”</p><p>“Sure,” Pansy shrugged, “I don’t think this is, like, relationship-ending bad, by any means, but it’s certainly a bit of a change, yeah?”</p><p>“It doesn’t have to be,” Harry argued, “we can always just move somewhere else, get a valid marriage there, and ignore the regulations we’re supposed to follow here.”</p><p>“Typical,” Pansy laughed, “if the rules don’t work for you, you’ll just ignore them, hey?”</p><p>“Well, if it works, it works,” Harry joked, “it shouldn’t be a problem for us, though.”</p><p>“I’m wondering,” Daphne hummed, “when you got the Goblins to trace your family tree… you’ve got an awful lot of titles to your name, what else could you claim?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Harry wasn’t sure what she meant.</p><p>“How many other Houses could you sit, if you chose to?” Pansy added.</p><p>“Oh,” Harry laughed awkwardly and scratched at the back of his head, “uh, seven. Counting the ones I’ve got already.”</p><p>“Seven.” Pansy repeated.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry shrugged, “but I’ve got no reason to claim any of the others, so it won’t matter, right?”</p><p>"Seven." Daphne reiterated.</p><p>His girlfriends exchanged a look, and Harry wondered once again what, exactly, he was missing.</p><p>“Right, well,” Pansy huffed, “Greg’s throwing a party tonight, to celebrate our political victory, and all three of us are attending, okay?”</p><p>“Ooh!” Daphne hugged Pansy, “are we ready?”</p><p>“I am,” Pansy nodded, “you, Harry?”</p><p>“Ready for…?” he asked.</p><p>“Going public about us,” Daphne answered.</p><p>“Oh!” Harry nodded fervently, “yeah, I’m absolutely ready for that.”</p><p>“Well, let’s get you dressed,” Pansy took him by the arm, “I can’t have my boyfriend showing up looking anything but stylish, after all.”</p><p>Harry thought this was the first thing he’d heard all day that made total and complete sense to him.</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>“Hey, Pansy,” Greg greeted them, “and Harry, and Daphne… three of you know that there’s a bunch of people here tonight, right?”</p><p>“Sure do,” Pansy wove her arms between each of her partners’ own, “figure we’ve been keeping enough secrets, yeah?”</p><p>“Ooh,” Flora Carrow appeared, “I’m glad to hear! Come in, come in, it’s already started!”</p><p>The Goyle estates were significantly diminished after the end of the Second Wizarding War, but Greg had retained a few of the less substantial properties that his family had held, and the party that night was being held at one of them: too small to be properly called a “manor”, but somewhat statelier than an apartment.</p><p>At a glance, Pansy recognized pretty much all of the guests, though several were people that she wasn’t particularly close to. Surprisingly, she spotted Bill Weasley crouched at the side of the party, with Lavender Brown bubbling around him, as was – apparently – a common sight in recent days.</p><p>Other people she noticed that hadn’t yet been let in on the trio’s secret relationship included the rest of the Weasley clan (Arthur, Molly, and a rangy redhead who could only have been Charlie), some people clustered around Neville and Hannah who had the look of Abbotts, and a few random members of minor houses.</p><p><em>Didn’t know Greg was so well connected, </em>Pansy thought, <em>guess it’s a sign of the times, and all. </em></p><p>“How d’you know the Weasleys?” Pansy gave voice to what she’d been pondering.</p><p>“I’ve been in touch with Charlie for a while,” Greg answered, “he’s probably the most knowledgeable about dragons out there, and I was wondering about some particularly temperamental cross-breeds with dragon’s blood.”</p><p>“What, exactly, are you trying to breed?” Daphne asked.</p><p>“Nothing that fancy,” Greg smiled bashfully, “just, y’know, dragon-blooded Crups…”</p><p>“I dunno if that’s possible,” Harry added, “talk to Hagrid, if anyone would know weird Crup breeds, it’d be him.”</p><p>“Fuck, that’s a great point,” Greg nodded, “I haven’t, uh, talked to anyone from Hogwarts… I figured, y’know.”</p><p>“Mate,” Harry clapped his hand down on Greg’s shoulder, “you and I crossed wands how many times? It’s water under the bridge at this point, don’t worry about Hagrid being judgmental, he’d just be thrilled to talk to someone else as interested in exotic mixed-breeds as he is.”</p><p><em>Water under the bridge for some of us, </em>Pansy caught sight of someone she was rather hoping to avoid, <em>not everyone.</em></p><p>Susan Bones was also in attendance at Greg’s party, currently planted in a spot very near the middle of the room, engaged in a conversation with Hermione. She’d be impossible to avoid, which – given the recent stunt Pansy’s father had pulled – wasn’t exactly encouraging for Pansy.</p><p>“Right,” Greg murmured, “d’you three want an announcement, now that you’re here, and all?”</p><p>“Nah,” Harry shook his head, “I figure that we’re going to wind up in the <em>Prophet </em>anyways, might as well just act natural about it.”</p><p>The trio made their way into Greg’s house, and sure enough, for every step they took, it seemed as if a new pair of curious eyes locked on to them.</p><p><em>Let them look, </em>Pansy sniffed to herself, <em>we don’t have anything to be ashamed of, not any more.</em></p><p>The reactions from the crowd seemed mixed; some of the minor Wizengamot representatives (who Pansy didn’t really know at all) looked at the trio with outright shock on their faces, while those closer to Harry’s circle of friends tended to goggle at first, only to nod to themselves as if saying <em>‘I suppose this makes sense’. </em></p><p><em>The look on Molly Weasley’s face was priceless, </em>Pansy thought, <em>once she realized it was me, she must have spent a full minute deciding whether or not she approved. </em></p><p>It wasn’t as if Pansy or Daphne were the focus of attention, however; Harry cut his way through the crowd effortlessly, and more than a few people looked as if they were trying to figure out whether or not they should <em>bow </em>to him as he passed.</p><p>He certainly didn’t look the part of Wizarding nobility, thanks to Pansy’s intentional efforts: Harry was dressed Muggle-style, in a sharp vest and tie, with his dragonskin jacket overtop. He looked <em>sharp, </em>but not “regal” or “noble” in the traditional sense.</p><p>Pansy knew that there would be plenty of occasions where she would be the center of attention (and the same with Daphne), but considering his actions in the Wizengamot earlier, she was more than willing to surrender that title to Harry for the evening.</p><p>Once they’d all been properly <em>seen</em>, the trio split off to different parts of the party. Rather than as some part of a ruse or a scheme, their goal for the night was simply to enjoy themselves, and each had different groups of friends to visit with.</p><p>Unfortunately, Pansy only made it a few steps before she was intercepted; Bones stepped right in front of her, a mysterious expression on her face.</p><p>“Parkinson,” Bones spoke, “fancy seeing you here.”</p><p>“Yes, well,” Pansy shrugged, “there isn’t much point hiding things any longer, is there?”</p><p>“True,” Bones grinned a nearly-predatory expression, “it’s better to be up-front about what’s going on.”</p><p>“Ah,” Pansy realized what she was getting at, “yes, aren’t we supposed to duel now, or something like that?”</p><p>“There’s still a couple days left before that shite comes due,” Bones replied, “but I was rather hoping that it wouldn’t come to that, yeah?”</p><p>“I’ve got no control over whatever my father does,” Pansy sighed, “if you can figure a way to weasel out of it, I’m game, but I’m afraid that I’m not much use otherwise.”</p><p>“I doubt that’s true,” Bones’ smirk grew wider, “c’mon, let’s grab a drink.”</p><p>“Fine,” Pansy sighed, “lead the way, Bones.”</p><p>“You’ve got options, you know,” Bones spoke quietly to her as they walked towards the bar, “I know that we don’t get along, and that’s one thing, but falling under a fucking Blood Feud is another matter entirely. I’d truly, honestly like to avoid that if we can.”</p><p>“Like what?” Pansy wondered, “surrender my claim to House Parkinson? Revoke my lineage?”</p><p>“That’s one, yeah,” Bones nodded, “the other is that you actually track your father down, and persuade him to put a stop to this idiocy.”</p><p>“I’ve less than no interest in talking to my father,” Pansy tossed her hair, “and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to convince him to stop being an idiot. He’s got a lifetime of experience in that field, a few pretty words of mine wouldn’t do fuck all to change his mind.”</p><p>“You could also take my side,” Bones huffed, “awful hard for him to claim that he’s being slandered if his own daughter reiterated my claims.”</p><p>“Won’t work,” Pansy answered, “look, I don’t actually disagree with you, alright? My father is an <em>awful </em>fucking prat, and I wouldn’t be shocked if he was far too friendly with the Death Eaters for his own good. Despite that, I’ve got no proof that he was ever one of them – he hasn’t got the mark, yeah? – and neither do you, which is why we’re in this whole fucking mess.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Bones grumbled, “I guess I’m gonna have to empty my bank accounts, then.”</p><p>“What was the feud price that he named, anyways?” Pansy opened a bottle of firewhisky, and poured two tall glasses of it.</p><p>“A hundred thousand galleons,” Bones sighed, and if Pansy were already drinking her beverage, she would have spit it out.</p><p>“Fuck, that’s mad,” Pansy muttered, “why the fuck would you pay that?”</p><p>“The alternative is that I swear to advance his causes for a year,” Bones explained, “and given what we both suspect of him, I’d expect that would wind up with me in Azkaban eventually.”</p><p>“You mentioned ‘tracking him down’,” Pansy looped back to an earlier point in the conversation, “he must be around, if he’s connected enough to start a fucking Blood Feud over something overheard at a party.”</p><p>“Who knows?” Bones shrugged, “seems like he’s absent a whole lot. The vote today was the first time anyone’s seen him in person in weeks, by the sound of it.”</p><p>“I had a bit of trouble with Lady Zabini a while ago,” Pansy hummed, “she mentioned that he’d been touring the continent an awful lot of late. Maybe start there, if you want to try and deal with him personally?”</p><p>“Wait,” Bones took her glass of firewhisky, and downed the entire thing in one shot, “’touring the contintent’?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Elaborate on that,” Bones demanded.</p><p>“That’s literally what I know,” Pansy shrugged, “apparently he’s been gallivanting around Europe the past few months. Fucked if I know why, we hardly traveled in my youth.”</p><p>“Oh, Merlin’s fucking beard,” Bones cursed, “believe it or not, that might be a huge help.”</p><p>“Great,” Pansy drank half of her own firewhisky in a single pull, “I’m still not getting why this matters to you. Like you said, we don’t get along, how’s it make a difference if we have to cross wands now and then?”</p><p>“Oh, you’ll see,” Bones replied, “maybe I want to patch things up a bit, yeah? Can’t exactly do that with a Blood Feud hanging over us.”</p><p>Pansy finished her drink, at a loss for how to make sense of this entire conversation. She knew that her father was, indeed, a loathsome sort, but being a pig-headed arsehole wasn’t exactly a criminal offense.</p><p>“Well, this has been enlightening,” Bones glanced around at the crowd, “I’ve gotta go congratulate Harry, then I’ve got some other shite to deal with, apparently. Pleasure as always, Parkinson.”</p><p>“Ta,” Pansy rolled her eyes as Bones walked off.</p><p><em>Wonder what that was all about, </em>Pansy thought, <em>she seemed to change tacks entirely once my father’s European vacations came up.</em></p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">Daphne</span>
</p><p>They arrived home in high spirits. While they hadn’t officially <em>announced </em>their relationship, the chance to be open and more obvious about it was a refreshing change of pace from all the scheming and skulduggery of the past months, and Daphne couldn’t wait for the chance to engage in those more conventional relationship activities now that they weren’t bound by secrecy.</p><p>
  <em>We can go on dates! In public!</em>
</p><p>It would certainly be a change of pace, but it was one that she was very much looking forward to.</p><p>
  <em>Speaking of things I’m looking forward to…</em>
</p><p>The trio made their way upstairs; it was fairly early in the evening, but they weren’t exactly planning on going to sleep right away. No discussion was necessary; from the looks that Pansy had been giving each of her partners for most of the evening, it was obvious where things were leading.</p><p>Daphne decided to initiate, and swept up behind Pansy, kissing her neck, and running her hands up and down the front of Pansy’s torso. Her girlfriend leaned back into the embrace, and in turn, Harry stepped up behind Pansy, then wrapped his arms around both of the women at once.</p><p>She could feel Harry’s manhood pressed against her arse, and wiggled her hips back against him to enhance the sensation for both of them. Daphne heard Harry make a low, satisfied groan, as his hands ran up to cup her breasts.</p><p>“I think we’re all overdressed,” Daphne assessed, “let’s get in bed!”</p><p>The trio hurriedly undressed themselves (and each other), and before long, spilled into the bed in an excited tangle of limbs. Harry wound up propped up on his elbows, laying on his back near the head of the bed, and Pansy wasted no time at all in crawling between his legs.</p><p>“Fuck, Pans,” Harry groaned, as the dark-haired woman’s head started to bob up and down rapidly.</p><p>Daphne crawled around behind her girlfriend, and slowly – almost tortuously so – peeled her thong down her creamy thighs. Daphne planted kisses up the aforementioned thighs, as she drew closer and closer to her goal.</p><p>She delicately extended her tongue to trace between Pansy’s lips, and was thrilled to see the way her girlfriend shuddered as Daphne tasted her. Instead of diving right into her task with the same desperate energy that Pansy was giving to Harry, Daphne focused on a slow, teasing pace, tracing her tongue lightly around Pansy’s sex.</p><p>When she flicked her tongue over Pansy’s clit, the brunette twitched, and Daphne heard her moan around her mouthful of Harry’s cock. Daphne brought both hands down on Pansy’s arse suddenly, the spank echoing through their bedroom, then pressed her mouth over the entirety of Pansy’s cunt.</p><p>“Mmmf!” Pansy moaned, as Daphne delved her tongue inside her girlfriend.</p><p>Daphne reached around Pansy’s hips, and started to play her fingertips around Pansy’s clit as she thrust her tongue <em>inside </em>Pansy’s sex. At a glance, Pansy seemed to be very distracted from sucking Harry’s cock, judging by how she’d sometimes freeze up entirely.</p><p><em>It’s fun to distract her like this, </em>Daphne thought, as she ramped up the intensity of her own actions.</p><p>“Daph!” Pansy begged, “get the strap-on, would you?”</p><p>“Ooh!” Daphne hopped up from the bed, eager to fulfill this request, “you’ve got it!”</p><p>She retrieved the device, and quickly stepped into the looping straps which held the toy against her torso. Daphne stroked the artificial phallus once, activating the charms which passed sensations along its length, then crawled back into bed behind Pansy.</p><p>Harry had propped himself up on his knees, rather than laying on his back, and was now taking a more active role in the fellatio that Pansy was still performing on him; he lazily sawed his hips back and forth, thrusting into her mouth.</p><p>Judging by the muffled moans escaping from Pansy, she was just as much a fan of that sort of treatment as ever.</p><p>Daphne knelt behind her girlfriend, and lined the toy up with Pansy’s entrance. Without warning or hesitation, she plunged forward, driving the entire length of the strap-on inside Pansy with a single thrust.</p><p>“Mhmm!” Pansy groaned, and Daphne immediately started to <em>really </em>fuck her, her hips slapping against Pansy’s arse with vigour.</p><p><em>Such a nice arse, too, </em>Daphne brought one of her hands down in a slap on Pansy’s jiggling arse, which – despite her girlfriend’s petite frame – was more than full enough to quake with every thrust that Daphne gave her.</p><p>“I think she likes this,” Harry chuckled, as the pair of them continued to saw back and forth into either end of Pansy, filling her mouth and pussy equally. </p><p>“I like it too,” Daphne confirmed, as the sensations transmitted through the magical sex toy were beginning to cause a familiar heat to coil in her abdomen. She wasn’t sure if she could manage to climax before Pansy would, but Daphne was entirely certain that her turn would come <em>(heh, “come”) </em>around sooner or later.</p><p>The trio passed the next few moments like that, with Harry and Daphne both thrusting aggressively against Pansy, who was more than happy to plant herself on her hands and knees and take everything that they could give her.</p><p>“Wanna switch?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Oh, fuck yeah,” Daphne confirmed.</p><p>She slowly pulled the toy out of Pansy (who made a mewling, disappointed sound as she did so), then hurried to undo the straps from around her pelvis. Harry, in turn, pulled free from Pansy’s mouth, and prowled to the foot of the bed, as Daphne clambered to replace him.</p><p>She reached down to grab Pansy’s shoulder, and flipped the petite woman onto her back. Daphne wasted no time in swinging her leg over Pansy’s head, and in turn, Pansy didn’t hesitate to latch on to Daphne’s wet sex and started to <em>devour </em>her.</p><p>“Mmmmmmff,” Pansy’s moan vibrated through Daphne, which made her shudder in turn, as Harry slid inside of their girlfriend. Daphne looked up at him and grinned, and then Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.</p><p>They kissed fervently as Harry fucked Pansy roughly; their girlfriend was petite enough that they didn’t have to change position much to kiss, even while each of them was once again crouched at either end of Pansy.</p><p>“Mmm, yeah,” Daphne reached down to plant her hands on Pansy’s tits (which were bouncing and swaying all over as Harry’s thrusts pounded against her), then flicked a finger against either of Pansy’s pierced nipples.</p><p>“You two are so gorgeous together,” Harry breathed, though his sentimentality didn’t slow his pace whatsoever.</p><p>“I like watchin-“ Daphne’s breath hitched as Pansy gently nipped at her, “watching you two, also.”</p><p>“Mhmm,” Pansy had continued to be as vocal as ever, despite how preoccupied her mouth was.</p><p>Daphne rocked her hips against Pansy’s face, and in turn, the brunette’s hands latched <em>firmly </em>onto Daphne’s arse, squeezing and groping with wild abandon. Harry leaned back onto his knees, and started to pound Pansy even harder than he had been; every stroke produced an audible <em>slap </em>of his skin against hers, and Pansy quivered underneath Daphne the entire time.</p><p>As it turned out, Pansy was the first to reach her climax; her entire body stiffened, and a plaintive <em>“mmmohhh fuck” </em>echoed from between Daphne’s legs, as Harry expertly brought her over the edge. Daphne leaned down onto her hands and knees, spreading herself wider on top of Pansy, and allowing the brunette’s tongue to plunge inside her depths.</p><p>When Harry’s cock slipped free from Pansy’s overstimulated pussy, Daphne took it between her lips immediately, savoring the combined taste of the two of them. From how he throbbed in her mouth, she could tell he hadn’t cum yet, but he wasn’t far off, either.</p><p>“Oh, fuck,” Daphne let him slip free of her mouth when Pansy latched on to her clit and <em>sucked, </em>“just like that, Pans, just like that!”</p><p>Harry leaned overtop her prone position, and brought one of his hands down on Daphne’s arse <em>hard</em>. The pleasant sting of the spank sent a lightning bolt up her spine, and when this tingling sensation traced back down between her legs, it exploded into an orgasm.</p><p>“Morgana…” Daphne gasped as she rolled off of Pansy, “Harry, come up here. I want to finish you with my mouth.”</p><p>“Hmph,” Pansy faux-sulked, “you’ll let me help, of course.”</p><p>“I’d expect nothing else,” Daphne repositioned herself so that she lay face-to-face with Pansy, then immediately started to kiss her girlfriend. The two women danced their tongues together, snogging messily, and when Harry knee-walked up to the head of the bed, Daphne reached out to grab his stiff manhood, then pulled him forwards, guiding him between both of their mouths.</p><p>They lavished attention all over the head of Harry’s member, trapped between both of their lips as it was. The women also managed to maintain their make-out session, their tongues sliding against each other whenever they weren’t trailing over Harry’s cock.</p><p>“Fuck, that’s brilliant,” Harry gasped, and when Pansy’s delicate hand joined Daphne’s, wrapped around the base of Harry’s prick, the two women started to stroke him in time with their oral ministrations.</p><p>Lewd, wet sounds filled their bedroom as the pair brought Harry towards his climax, his head slapping between their lips, bouncing against their tongues. He reached down to run his fingers through both of their hair, and his hips started to cant back and forth, his shaft sliding between their mouths as the three of them lost themselves to their passions.</p><p>“Daph! Pans!” Harry groaned, and then Daphne’s mouth was filled with his cum; he covered Pansy’s lips with the next spurt, and then his final two jets coated each of the women’s tongues. They didn’t cease kissing each other, even when Harry slid his member free, engaging in a positively pornographic snogging session as they swapped his cum back and forth.</p><p>When Daphne finally swallowed her portion of Harry’s load, she felt oddly content from the sensation; as if it were some sort of physical manifestation of their shared love for one another.</p><p>She decided to express this emotion, though in a less sexually-charged manner than her thoughts were fixated on.</p><p>“I love both of you,” Daphne proudly stated, “I can’t wait to start going out in public, now that we don’t have to hide any longer.”</p><p>“I know, right?” Pansy reached up and tightened her embrace on Daphne, “I love you both, obviously, but I had just about enough of keeping you two a secret.”</p><p>“Well, you can show us off any time you’d like, now,” Harry chuckled, as he arranged himself beside Pansy, his hand idly trailing down Daphne’s back, “and, yeah. I love both of you. I couldn’t have managed these last few months without you two.”</p><p>They were familiar refrains, but no less heart-warming to hear.</p><p>As the three of them laid together in a comfortable pile, Daphne hummed softly to herself while she stroked both Harry and Pansy’s dark hair.</p><p><em>Being open about our relationship is going to be a big change, </em>she knew, <em>we’ll be in the papers constantly, and I’ll have to become even more used to being a public figure than I have been lately…</em></p><p>
  <em>It’s all worth it, though. Even if things might change a bit, we’re going to be great together. </em>
</p><p>She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more content than she was in that moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now there's a whole bunch of things in the open, including the trio's relationship :^)</p><p>This chapter took a while for me to spin together, so my apologies for the delay. I'm fairly confident that the next few chapters will be easier for me to write, so I'm optimistic that I'll be back on my regular publishing pace soon.</p><p>I'd love to hear what you thought - and what you might speculate about some of the details touched on in this chapter ;^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Esophagus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fleur and Pansy have a discussion</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter takes place after Luna had her night with the trio (off-screen), which will later be shown in a spin-off.</p><p>Assume that they had a night of wild sex, and you'll have all the necessary information :^P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Pansy</span>
</p><p>She sat in the back room of <em>Serpentine, </em>sipping a cup of coffee, with a number of newspapers spread out before her. Pansy knew that – while they hadn’t exactly made a proper announcement – her recent appearance along Harry and Daphne was sure to have raised a few eyebrows, and raised eyebrows tended to become gossip articles fairly quickly.</p><p>Sure enough, she found the first such article she expected in the “society” section of the Daily Prophet, and skimmed through it as she enjoyed her coffee.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>THREE WIVES FOR THE TRIPLE LORD?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>With the recent announcement that Harry Potter is not only the Lord of Houses Potter and Black, but also the Earl of House Peverell, it is only a logical assumption that the Lord Potter-Black-Peverell – <strong>Editor’s Note – the correct titulature is currently undetermined – </strong>would be obligated to seek a third wife for his newly-revealed third House. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Readers of The Prophet will likely be familiar with previous reporting on the connections between Lord Potter-Black (which is the term we shall use for the sake of word count), and Lady Susan Bones, in addition to the frequent public sightings of Miss Daphne Greengrass in each of their company, but the recent appearance of one Miss Pansy Parkinson alongside Lord Potter-Black and Miss Greengrass is a new development. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A second logical assumption would be that Miss Parkinson has been aware of Lord Potter-Black’s third seat for longer than it has been public knowledge. While The Prophet cannot speculate as to which of Lord Potter-Black’s three Houses she has set her sights on, bystanders who witnessed her in attendance at one Lord Gregory Goyle’s social event described a dynamic that seemed familiar and long-established:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…walked in like she expected to be the centre of attention, she did,” said one guest, “holding on to [Lord Potter Black’s] arm like she actually belonged on it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Readers may also recall that Miss Parkinson played a particularly contentious role during Post-War reconstruction: she was infamously one of the former Slytherin students placed under a lengthy probation, forbidden from the use of magic and her wand, which makes her presumed relationship with Lord Potter-Black a notable example of a redemption story, of sorts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It is obvious, however, that the virtues admired as Slytherin values have not been abandoned. To have kept this alliance a secret, despite Miss Parkinson’s reappearance in high society in recent times, speaks to the degree of subtlety and – perhaps – even underhandedness required to disguise her true allegiance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Many witches and wizards who have spoken to The Prophet about this matter have described that Miss Parkinson often spoke out against certain aspects of recently-proposed legislation, which, notably, Lord Potter-Black also opposed, despite his role in crafting certain pieces of said legislation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One can only speculate as to what other secrets Lord Potter-Black might be keeping, with such a silver-tongued navigatrix of Pureblood society by his side to aid in this task…</em>
</p><p>Pansy couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she tossed the newspaper aside. It wasn’t exactly the worst hit-piece that they’d ever written (not even the worst about Harry, specifically), but it certainly did enough to vaguely hint at their <em>concerns </em>about her presence in Harry’s life.</p><p>By the time that the article got to its main point – Harry’s future marriages, plural – it had spent so long pontificating and speculating about her that it didn’t have much of an argument at all. She wondered who got paid to write poorly-put-together gossip dressed up as political analysis, but then decided that she didn’t actually care that much.</p><p>She even had to preen a little bit, reading the part that described her as some sort of masterful manipulator. <em>“Silver-tongued”, I’ll have to remember that, </em>she thought contentedly, <em>though that’s far from my favourite way to use my tongue…</em></p><p>Pansy turned to the next publication in line, <em>Witch Weekly. </em>She suspected that if anything was going to make allusions to her more salacious capabilities, it would be that one.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The Future Lady ___?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>One of the hottest new topics of discussion is the future of a single (or maybe, shall we say, emphatically not-single) man: Harry Potter, also known as the Lord Potter-Black, Earl of Peverell, following his recent announcement at the Wizengamot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s a simple enough conclusion to draw, that a man with three Houses will need three wives, one for each of his lines, so it comes as no surprise that it seems as if Harry Potter has already taken steps to solve that particular conundrum. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>While nothing has been outright confirmed, his appearance at a party with both Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass on his arms certainly seems to imply that Mister Potter is no longer eligible for our “hottest bachelors” list, since, according to guests at that party, it would appear that he has found candidates for at least two of his Houses (if not all three – see “Bound to Bones?” in our March issue for more!).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For someone who hadn’t been seen with a date in <strong>years </strong>before this one<strong>, </strong>the fact that Mister Potter is so popular with the ladies should still come as no surprise. After all, he was the reigning champion of Witch Weekly’s most eligible bachelors list for months on end: a powerful wizard, a surprisingly capable politician, and – let’s be honest, readers – quite easy on the eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His match with Daphne Greengrass, therefore, should come as no surprise. She also made her own appearances on our lists of eligible single witches, and her good qualities are both easily noticed and multitudinous. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which makes it even more surprising that Pansy Parkinson, known for a variety of qualities, both good and bad, would find herself as the third candidate for one of Harry Potter’s future wives. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I knew something had to be up,” said one guest at the party where this relationship seemed to be revealed, “Harry’s always had an awful sense of style, but lately he’s been looking awful sharp, hasn’t he? Makes sense, if Parkinson’s the one who’s revamped his wardrobe.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Our source no doubt refers to <strong>Serpentine, </strong>the fashion shop that Miss Parkinson owns and operates. Witch Weekly has previously reported on her daring and delightful designs, but who knew that she’d expanded her reach into men’s fashion? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now that we can put the pieces together, it seems almost obvious; take this picture of Harry Potter out on the town, for example: that dragonhide jacket could only be a Serpentine original! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With all these facts now obvious, only one question remains: which House will each of these women marry into? </em>
</p><p>Pansy hummed in thought to herself as she set the magazine down.</p><p><em>We haven’t really talked about that, </em>she reminisced, <em>always figured the whole “who gets which House” thing would sort itself out. </em></p><p>
  <em>I do rather hope I wind up a Black, “Pansy Potter” makes me sound like a fucking gardener. </em>
</p><p>She supposed that the three of them should actually sit down and talk out that particular aspect of their relationship. While she was generally inclined to go along with Harry’s whole “it’ll happen how it happens” approach, the fact of the matter was that in order to get married to the bloke, he’d have to find a third woman to marry as well.</p><p><em>Assuming that he doesn’t have to claim the other Houses he’s apparently holding in reserve, </em>Pansy sighed, <em>then there might be <strong>seven </strong>of us. Merlin.</em></p><p>Pansy had some of her own ideas as to whom might be suitable as a third wife, but nobody she had idly thought of seemed like a perfect fit, not in the same way that she and Daphne were with Harry (and each other).</p><p><em>Lovegood is a lot of fun, surprisingly, </em>Pansy recalled their adventures with the tiny blonde woman over the past weekend, <em>but she’s not the marrying type, so she’s out. </em></p><p>
  <em>Same with Padma: too committed to staying single to bring her into this. </em>
</p><p>Pansy wasn’t blind to the fact that, on the surface, Susan Bones seemed like an ideal fit in many ways, but she was completely unwilling to cave in to facts such as “she’s already pretended to be part of the relationship” or “House Peverell sorts out her own inheritance issues”, not unless Bones came and literally grovelled for forgiveness.</p><p><em>The whole Blood Feud hanging over our heads doesn’t help either, </em>she grumbled under her breath to herself, <em>utterly fucking fantastic that my dad’s gone missing again, just as that’s about to come due. </em></p><p>She was distracted from her thoughts by the familiar sound of her Floo roaring to life, and as Pansy checked the time, she realized that she’d been sitting around and mulling these ideas over for longer than she’d thought.</p><p>Pansy had a meeting with Fleur scheduled for that afternoon, and as her guest arrived, Pansy idly mused on whether or not <em>she </em>might wind up being a fitting Lady Peverell.</p><p><em>I don’t think she’d be willing to keep things somewhat “political” in nature, </em>Pansy thought, <em>nor does it seem like she’d be content being equal to Daphne and me, if it came to that.</em></p><p>While Pansy had a lot of affection for her friend (and wouldn’t be so foolish as to try and claim that she didn’t desire Fleur, in many ways), the only way to describe Fleur Delacour was that she was a <em>lot</em>. Whether or not it was due to her Veela lineage – as Fleur might claim – the tall, powerful woman was inherently someone who sought to dominate others, and Pansy had her doubts that such a personality could fit neatly into a complicated “three plus one” relationship.</p><p><em>Plus, Daph barely knows her, </em>Pansy recollected, <em>that’d have to change if she was ever going to join us, and Fleur’s shown no interest in Daphne whatsoever. </em></p><p>“Bonjour, Pansy!” the woman she’d been speculating about called out, “are you in the back?”</p><p>“Hi, Fleur,” Pansy replied, “yup. Just having a coffee. Want one?”</p><p><em>“Oui, </em>that would be delightful!” Fleur appeared through the doors leading into the back of <em>Serpentine, </em>and Pansy was almost disappointed that she was dressed more sensibly than usual; rather than towering on enormous stiletto heels, she merely towered in plain black flats.</p><p>Of course, she was still Fleur Delacour: her dress (one Pansy had made) had far too many lace panels and straps to be mistaken as “plain”, and Fleur had chosen to go with dramatic, dark-purple makeup that afternoon.</p><p><em>Even if she was wearing a cloth sack, </em>Pansy thought, <em>she’d still make it look stylish, somehow. </em></p><p>Pansy stood from her seat and waited for Fleur to approach for one of her typical embraces. Sure enough, the tall woman swept Pansy into her arms, though after a moment, her grip tightened more than it usually did.</p><p>“Fleur?” Pansy asked, as the platinum-blonde stood motionless.</p><p>Instead of replying, Fleur craned her head down, at the same time as she lifted Pansy off the ground. Pansy was too surprised – and honestly, a bit too thrilled - to struggle, and before long, Fleur had brought her up to nearly face level.</p><p>“Um, hi?” Pansy wasn’t sure what this was all about.</p><p>Fleur practically buried her face in the side of Pansy’s neck, making her squirm. As Pansy started to try and extricate herself from Fleur’s arms, one of Fleur’s hands wrapped around to fold around Pansy’s jaw, holding her head in place while Fleur took a deep breath through her nose.</p><p>“What have you done?” Fleur hissed.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Pansy gasped, “put me down, this is undignified!”</p><p>“<em>J'avais confiance en toi,”</em> Fleur spat, the French words translating to something like ‘I thought I could trust you’, “but… <em>non</em>. You are disloyal!”</p><p>“Fleur, what the fuck are you on about?” Pansy finally managed to wriggle free of Fleur’s grasp, and dropped back to the ground to land unsteadily, “I seriously have no idea what you’re upset about.”</p><p>“I found you intriguing,” Fleur hissed, “and, you know, when I first learned you were together with ‘Arry, I thought he had excellent taste. With this? With what you have done? I must tell him at once.”</p><p>“Tell him what?” Pansy was perplexed, “you’re not making any sense.”</p><p>“You reek of sex,” Fleur snapped, “I can smell another woman on you. Not Daphne, either, but someone with a hint of something Fae,” she growled, “I thought better of you, but I see I was mistaken.”</p><p><em>What? </em>Pansy goggled, <em>she can smell Luna on me?</em></p><p>“Fleur…” Pansy started to explain, “look, it’s not what you think.”</p><p>“I think you have been disloyal to a very good friend of mine,” Fleur smiled, and there was nothing kind in her expression, “though you and I may have become somewhat closer, of late, my loyalty to ‘Arry predates knowing you.”</p><p>There was fire in her eyes, and Pansy honestly felt a bit intimidated standing in front of her. While she always found Fleur to be an impressive woman, Pansy had never seen her angry before, and she found that while the visual spectacle of Fleur’s fury might have been impressive, she’d much rather avoid being the target of it.</p><p>“I mean, yeah,” Pansy shrugged, “I get that you’re protective of him, or whatever, but it’s <em>seriously </em>not what you’re accusing me of.”</p><p>“Oh?” Fleur smirked, “you have not slept with another woman? Curious, that my senses would be so inaccurate. I think you are lying.”</p><p>Pansy felt her heart hammering in her chest, half out of nervousness, half due to her own rising temper.</p><p>“No, I mean, yes,” Pansy grumbled, “I <em>have</em>, but there’s no fucking ‘disloyalty’ involved.”</p><p>“Harry is too accepting,” Fleur huffed, “even if he has forgiven you, that does not mean I have to. A shame, I had enjoyed our friendship.”</p><p>“Listen to me, stop being a bitch!” Pansy shrieked, already fed up with this interrogation, “I can actually explain, if you quit being arrogant for half a fucking minute.”</p><p>Fleur didn’t exactly flinch – Pansy was pretty sure she couldn’t manage to frighten Fleur even at her most fearsome – but she paused, and seemed to at least consider Pansy’s words for the first time.</p><p>“I may be arrogant,” Fleur folded her arms across her chest, “but I am not a cheater.”</p><p>“Neither am I!” Pansy was half-tempted to kick Fleur’s shin, “we have an arrangement!”</p><p>“One that you manipulated him into?”</p><p>“Merlin, you’re real pissed, aren’t you?” Pansy laughed a cruel note, “almost out of character for you, caring this much. No, Fleur, it’s one we all agreed to. If you must know, Harry was an <em>enthusiastic </em>participant at the same time I was, now that you’re prying into our private life.”</p><p>“He… what?” Fleur seemed confused by the possibility.</p><p>“We have an open relationship,” Pansy grumbled, “kind of. There’s conditions on it. Anyways, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”</p><p>“What is…” Fleur deflated, and all of a sudden, her impressive display of anger disappeared, “what does that mean?”</p><p>“It means,” Pansy kneaded her knuckles into her forehead, “that it’s okay for us to sleep with other women, as long as we’re following the rules we set. Fuck.”</p><p>“Oh.” Fleur blinked, and seemed to take a long moment to process the explanation, “but, you said Harry was there…”</p><p>“Yeah, exactly,” Pansy threw her hands up in frustration, “hard for him to be ‘cheated on’ when he fucked her too! And don’t go spreading this around! It’s not public knowledge!”</p><p>“<em>Mon dieu,</em>” Fleur gasped, “I have been terribly unfair to you!”</p><p>“Yeah, little bit,” Pansy muttered, “but whatever. You didn’t know, and, apparently, you’re real fucking overprotective of my boyfriend.”</p><p>“Like I said,” Fleur glanced away, looking almost nervous, “Harry is a dear friend of mine. I may have overreacted, I’m afraid my anger got the best of me…”</p><p>“I’ll fucking say,” Pansy sighed and slumped into her seat, “so, now you know our big secret. Don’t tell anyone else, okay?”</p><p>“Who was it?” she could practically see the wheels turning in Fleur’s head as she processed this recent discovery.</p><p>“None of your business,” Pansy fixed a serious gaze on Fleur, “even if our relationship might be public knowledge now, we’d certainly like to keep this little part of it private, hmm? So, yeah. That’s all you need to know.”</p><p>“How does… what are the rules you have?” Fleur seemed to shrink a bit, almost as if she realized how she’d been acting.</p><p>“All of us have to be on board, basically,” Pansy shrugged, “and I’m done with this topic.”</p><p>“I owe you an apology,” Fleur murmured, “I’m sorry, Pansy, I should not have said those things I did.”</p><p>“Nope,” Pansy agreed with her, “but, fuck it, I’m not going to hold it against you. You were just being a good friend, or something.”</p><p>“<em>Merde</em>, I should have realized,” Fleur took a seat across from her, and folded her hands delicately on the table, “Harry has three families now, does he not? It makes sense that the three of you would be seeking another.”</p><p>“It’s not about that,” Pansy rolled her eyes.<em> Of course she’s not going to drop it that easily. </em>“look… I really, <em>really </em>don’t want to get into it. I’ve already said too much, this was something that isn’t supposed to get out until we’re, well, considering someone. Not for getting married to Harry, just for some fun, okay?”</p><p>Fleur watched her for a moment.</p><p>“I underestimated you again,” Fleur sighed, “and if there is anything I should apologize for a second time, it is that.”</p><p>“And for being a bitch to me,” Pansy helpfully added.</p><p>“Yes, that is true as well,” Fleur nodded, “I make no excuses for that; I <em>am </em>a bitch, as you say, and I am not ashamed of it, but you did not deserve to be the target of my ire.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Pansy shrugged in exasperation, “buy me a bottle of some expensive wine or something, we’ll be square.”</p><p>“Deal,” Fleur smiled cautiously, “do you have plans for dinner tonight?”</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“Then I shall repay my debt to you immediately,” Fleur promised, “I have an open reservation at <em>The Unicorn, </em>which has a <em>manifique </em>wine list.”</p><p>“We <em>were </em>supposed to go over your latest designs,” Pansy reminded her, “and anyways, you don’t have to take me out to dinner.”</p><p>“I insist!” Fleur sat up straighter in her chair, “not only to apologize, but to remind you that I do, in fact, enjoy your company!”</p><p>“Fine,” Pansy wasn’t exactly going to turn down a free meal at one of the more exclusive restaurants in Magical Britain, “but I’m going to get <em>two </em>bottles of wine.”</p><p>“Absolutely,” Fleur reached out and cautiously laid her hand across Pansy’s forearm, “my treat.”</p><p>“Right, well,” Pansy shook off the last lingering remnants of frustration she was holding on to, “your designs…?”</p><p>“Of course!” Fleur pulled out a sheaf of paper, with some rough-sketched concepts on it, then started explaining her ideas, “as summer approaches, I believe that white shall be my colour…”</p><p><em>This is a lot more enjoyable to talk about, </em>Pansy thought, <em>and I’m actually kind of looking forward to dinner.</em></p><p>Fleur might not have been an ideal candidate to become Lady Peverell, as Pansy saw it, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t kind of thrilled to spend time with her nonetheless.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Look at Fleur go, quite literally sniffing out the trio's secrets. I thought about dragging out her misunderstanding for longer, but I decided that it's no fun to have "let me explain!" as a driving factor of conflict :^P</p><p>I'm sure that she isn't going to do <i>anything</i> with this knowledge</p><p>The next little bit of this story is going to focus a bit on various interpersonal relationships outside the trio, before it circles back to the trio's ~relationship~ as the primary driving factor. From there, well, it sure seems as if the whole "Future Lady Peverell" issue needs solving eventually, doesn't it? </p><p>Let me know what you thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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